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flowersforbucky · 5 months ago
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down bad
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bucky barnes x reader
word count: 3.9k
author's note: i couldn't stop thinking about bucky being able to use his metal hand as a vibrator and therefore this was born.
warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (female receiving), fingering, bucky being used as a human vibrator, multiple orgasms, language, consumption of alcohol, reader is afab, no use of y/n, slightly possessive bucky, 18+ only
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“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Natasha mutters through a mouth full of popcorn. “Tyler from the statistics department? Are we talking about the same Tyler from statistics?”
“Nat, for the fourth time, yes. Tyler from statistics. The only Tyler from statistics that I know.” You reach for the bottle of Moscato that the two of you are sharing, pouring yourself some more wine.
“Nuh-uh,” Natasha shakes her head. “I don't believe you. There's no way he could be that bad.” She takes a sip from her own glass of wine. “He's too gorgeous,” she shrugs, turning to face you on the couch. The romantic comedy you had picked out for your bi-monthly movie night plays forgotten in the background.
“Trust me,” you sigh. “I was just as shocked as you are. But I swear on my life, he stuck his tongue in my ear. In my fucking ear, but wouldn't go down on me.” You can tell by the look on her face that Nat is trying her hardest not to laugh.
“He said his dick game is ‘too good to need to eat a girl out’.” You shake your head, cringing at the memory. “Which is also what he said when I merely suggested that he use my vibrator on me instead. He looked like I had kicked his dog.”
“Well?” she asks, a pained expression across her features. “Was it? Too good?”
“I didn't stay to find out,” you admit. “I faked a work emergency and dipped.” A laugh breaks through her pursed lips.
“I'm sorry–” she says, although her face says otherwise. “I shouldn't laugh. You just have the worst luck with men. Isn't that the third failed hook-up in what? Six months?”
“Don't fucking remind me,” you groan, throwing your head back on the couch and staring up at the living room ceiling. “I think I've lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to me by another person again.”
Nat opens her mouth to speak, but quickly closes it when you both notice voices approaching from the hallway.
Sam and Bucky enter the room a moment later, both dressed uncharacteristically nice. You suddenly feel the desire to conceal yourself with the fleece throw blanket laying across your lap. You and Nat usually plan your movie nights for when the tower is relatively empty, so you're just wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a tank top. Bare-faced and hair unstyled, the fact that Bucky's gaze is locked on you as the two of them approach where you and Nat are lounging doesn't help. He's not smiling - but there's a look on his face that you don't quite understand. The ghost of a smirk on his lips and a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.
It's a look that makes you nervous - in addition to already feeling flutters in the pit of your stomach at how fucking good he looks.
“Hey, boys,” Nat greets them cheerily. “Where are the two of you going so dolled up?”
“There's a new nightclub in Brooklyn that a group of SHIELD trainees are going to tonight,” Sam answers. “They invited us and we've got nothing better to do. Figured we'd go check it out, get a few drinks. You ladies want to tag along? Or are you too busy watching - what is this, 10 Things I Hate About You?” He gestures towards the screen.
“Couldn't hurt to get out of the house for a while tonight, right?” Nat looks at you for confirmation, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Who knows, you might even meet someone,” she adds, nudging you with her elbow.
Bucky lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a cough, which he tries to play off as the latter. You narrow your eyes at him before glancing back to Natasha.
“For sure,” you agree, trying to ignore Bucky's bizarre behavior. “Couldn't hurt. You guys go on, we'll get ready and head there soon. Text us the name of the club?” You direct the last part to Sam in particular.
“You got it,” Sam says as he pulls his cell phone from his coat pocket. He turns to leave when both your and Nat’s phones chime with the club information. “Let's go man, our Uber's here,” he directs at Bucky.
“See you both soon,” he says before turning to follow Sam, though his gaze is still only on one of you.
“I'm gonna go throw on some make-up, curl my hair, and hope I can find something somewhat cute to–” Nat starts as soon as Bucky and Sam have turned back down the hallway.
“Was he acting kind of odd?” you interrupt her in a hushed tone.
“Barnes? Always. I've stopped reading into it too much.”
“Some spy you are,” you mumble. “Meet me back here when you're ready.”
— — — — —
One hour later, you're applying some last minute mascara and lip gloss in the backseat of an Uber on your way to downtown Brooklyn. Natasha sits beside you, ranting about an assignment that Fury has tasked her with and you swear you're trying your hardest to absorb everything she's saying - but your mind keeps going back to the way Bucky was looking at you just an hour ago.
What was with that little smirk? That curious glimmer in his eyes? Had he overheard your conversation with Nat? Had he developed the ability to read minds and knew you were thinking about how fucking hot he looked? Or was that thought simply written all over your face?
You knew you couldn't deny it. Bucky does look exceptionally attractive in his black suit, with his perfectly tousled hair - but you had found him to be ridiculously good looking since you'd first met him. Even in casual, everyday clothes, even in gym shorts and drenched in sweat, even covered in blood after particularly brutal miss–
“You girls have a great evening,” your Uber driver interrupts your train of thought as he comes to a stop in front of your destination.
You really need to get fucking laid. You definitely shouldn't be having these kinds of thoughts about Bucky. He's your coworker, your teammate, your training partner on many occasions, your friend…
Natasha thanks him and hands him a generous cash tip before climbing out of the car right after you.
“Thanks,” you tell her. “I'll buy our drinks.”
“Don't worry about me,” she tells you with a sly grin as you both flash the bouncer your IDs and enter the club. Despite the night still being relatively young, it's already bustling inside.
“You just focus on meeting people, mingling, maybe hitting it off with a super hot guy and taking him back to your place for some mind-blowing–”
“Super hot guy? Are you talking about me?” Sam’s voice interrupts Nat. You both turn around to see him and Bucky walking towards you, drinks in hand.
There's a roguish smile on Bucky's face as his eyes skim up and down your figure.
“You both look wonderful,” he compliments, but once again, his stare is focused only on you. If Natasha notices, she says nothing.
To be fair, you were impressed with how well you managed to put yourself together with such little notice. You found a black, backless mini dress crammed in the back of your closet that you had forgotten all about after snagging it on clearance forever ago. The form-fitting material hugs you in all the right ways, and paired with your favorite pair of strappy black heels, you're feeling infinitely more confident than you were when Bucky saw you just an hour prior.
“Thanks!” You chirp quickly, averting your gaze from him to take in your surroundings. To your left, the dance floor is lively, though not too overcrowded for your liking. To your right, there's a bar surrounded by tables filled with groups of people conversing - you vaguely recognize a couple of SHIELD agents huddled around one. The entire room is illuminated by the faint blue-green glow of the mood lighting, and the bass of the music vibrates through the floorboards.
Sam and Bucky excuse themselves to go say hey to the group of agents that had invited them, while Nat all but drags you over to the bar. You order a double shot of whiskey and throw it back as quickly as you can.
“I see what you mean now,” Nat whispers to you after downing her shot of tequila. “About Barnes,” she clarifies. “He's been eye-fucking you since we walked through the door.”
If you hadn't already swallowed your liquor, you would have spewed it all over her.
“He has not been eye-fucking me, Nat,” you say in an almost scolding tone.
“I'm just saying,” she throws her hands up. “There’s no way he could possibly be any worse than the last few guys you've gone for. I think you should go for it,” she shrugs.
“It's not that I don't think he'd be good,” you say defensively, forcing yourself to look away from where he and Sam are socializing with the small group of SHIELD agents a few tables away. “I just don't want things to be weird afterwards. We work together nearly every day, and we have a bunch of mutual friends–”
“Suit yourself,” she cuts you off in a tone of voice that very much says if you say so. “Now, are you going to dance with me or not?” She adds as she begins tugging you towards the ever-busying dance floor.
You spend the next half hour dancing with Nat before she's swept away by some black-haired doctor looking type. Good for her, you think as you watch them converse intimately at a small booth on the other side of the room.
Thanks to the liquid courage that runs through your veins, you're okay with the fact that Bucky stands just twenty feet away from you, watching you as you dance among the thick crowd of people.
You've made eye contact with him a few times now - on accident or on purpose, you're not sure at this point. But each time, your eyes lingers on his for a moment longer than the last.
You're mentally daring him to come here, to make a move, to do something other than stand to the sidelines of whatever conversation Sam and the others are engaged in.
The slightest bit of pressure on your waist snaps you back to the now congested dance floor.
You look up to find that the hand on your waist belongs to a tall man with shoulder length, sandy blonde hair. He's conventionally attractive enough, though not who you were hoping would come grab you on the dance floor.
“I'm Shawn,” he introduces himself, loudly enough for you to hear him over the roaring music. You tell him your name, pushing aside the pang of disappointment in your chest.
“Do you want to go somewhere a bit quieter to talk, maybe? Let me buy you a drin–”
“There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you,” a voice booms from behind you.
Shawn immediately retracts his hand from your waist, backing up a few inches as Bucky comes into view beside you.
“Must not have been looking too hard, I've been right here this whole time,” you jab back with a smug smile.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to–” Shawn says as he starts to back away.
“No worries, bud,” Bucky says in an overly friendly voice as he moves to stand in front of you, blocking you from Shawn's view entirely.
“Took you long enough,” you tell Bucky once the man is out of ear shot, once again beginning to sway to the music. “Get bored of listening to Sam hype himself up to the newbies?”
He takes a step closer, angling himself behind you. The crowd of people surrounding you edges you closer to him - your bare back brushing against the cool satin fabric of his suit.
“Maybe,” his chest vibrates against your skin when he speaks. He places his hands on either side of your hips - eliciting goosebumps across your skin in a way that no one else has in a long, long time.
“Or maybe I just wanted to save you from wasting your time on another guy who can't make you come.”
Your movements come to an abrupt pause as his words hit you.
He had fucking overheard your conversation with Natasha.
At a loss for words, you turn to face him. There's a shit-eating grin spread across his face. He thinks this is hilarious and it's obvious.
“Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop?”
“Is it really eavesdropping if I have superhuman hearing?” He takes a step closer to you, closing what little distance was separating you. The peaks of your breasts brush against his chest.
“So what happens now that you've saved me from another unsatisfactory hook-up?” You challenge, staring up at him in the neon blue lighting.
You can smell hints of cedarwood and sage from his cologne in your close proximity. It's so delicious that it's dizzying.
“Let me take you somewhere more private than this dance floor and I'll show you.”
“You seem to have a lot of confidence in your ability to give me a better experience,” you say, leaning forward so that your face is just inches from his.
He responds by placing his flesh hand on the small of your back and pulling you flush against him. The tips of his fingers continue to dance down the skin of your exposed spine. His vibranium hand comes to cradle your jaw, his metal thumb tracing your bottom lip.
His mouth forms a dark smirk - and then you feel it. It starts soft and subtle and then gradually increases in intensity.
His fucking thumb is vibrating against your lip.
If you hadn't been standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor at a nightclub in downtown Brooklyn, you would have taken that thumb into your mouth and sucked on it right then and there.
“What do you say?” he asks, now tugging on your bottom lip with the pulsing digit. “Are you going to let me take you to the first empty room I can find in this place and make you come?”
“I say show me the way.”
He removes his hand from your face and turns you in the direction of the back of the club. He guides you through the throng of dancers, keeping his hands placed firmly on either side of your waist from behind. His vibranium fingers still hum softly, reminding you of what he says is to come.
Directly past the dance floor, there's a hallway blocked off by a rope with a sign that reads employees only. Taking a quick look around, you see that all of the patrons surrounding you and Bucky are paying you no mind. Bucky unhooks the flimsy rope and the two of you slip down the hallway.
He jiggles the handles of several doors that all turn out to be locked. Not wanting to waste any time or draw any attention to yourselves with picking locks, you continue down the dark corridor until the heavy music from the heart of the club fades to a muted roar.
The very last door opens without a hitch.
Thanks to the pale orange glow of a table lamp on a desk in the corner of the room, you can see that you're in a makeshift office/supply room - a couple of filing cabinets, cleaning supplies, extra glassware, and some sound equipment strewn haphazardly throughout the limited space.
Bucky clicks the lock into place as soon as he closes the door behind him.
You're going to turn around him and tell him that he doesn't have to do this - that as badly as you want this, you don't want to ruin your friendship, that as badly as you want him, he doesn't have anything to prove to you - but his lips are already on yours as soon as you start to open your mouth.
He doesn't take his lips off of yours as he guides you backwards to the rickety wooden desk. The backs of your thighs hit the table and Bucky effortlessly lifts you to sit on the edge, giving him the perfect angle to deepen the kiss - with his tongue exploring your mouth, you're unable to stop yourself from groaning into the kiss.
You fist your fingers into his hair, tugging just hard enough so that he hisses into your mouth. His own hands trail from the sides of your stomach and down your thighs, until he reaches the tail of your dress. You instinctively part your legs for him, as much as the restrictive fabric will allow, and his vibranium hand shoots between your thighs.
He teases you, dragging his index finger along the cloth of your panties that you know you're close to soaking through already. Just as the tip of his finger pauses above your clit, his finger begins emitting the softest vibration.
You break the kiss, breathless as you throw your head back at the sensation. Bucky takes it as an opportunity to attach his lips to the pulse point of your throat, nipping your flesh with his teeth followed by a wet kiss.
He continues with the ministrations through your panties until you're rutting against his hand, needing more. He tugs your underwear to the side and increases the intensity of the vibration before nudging his middle finger past your entrance.
You have to hold onto his shoulders to steady yourself - despite the fact that you're sitting, your body feels like jelly beneath his touch. He adds in his index finger with ease before cupping your pussy in his palm - the heel of his hand pulsating against your clit.
“Fuck, Bucky,” you cry against his mouth.
“You're so fucking wet for me, you know that?” He coos, thrusting both of his fingers against the spongy-flesh of your walls.
You can feel the vibrations of his hand all the way from your belly to your toes.
You begin grinding your hips to meet the movement of his fingers, fucking yourself against his hand. There's a familiar knot forming in your lower belly as he curls his fingers inside you -
“I want you to think about me and how good I'm making you feel every time you think about letting some fuckin’ nobody touch you,” he says in a low voice next to your ear. “I want you to think about riding my fingers until you come all over my hand.”
His words send you over the edge and you do exactly that - your pussy clenching around his fingers as you ride them through your orgasm. While you're still coming down from the high of your climax, Bucky pulls his metal fingers out of you and brings them to your lips, inserting his index finger in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the slick metal as he brings the vibrations to a halt and then slowly pulls the finger from your mouth.
He picks you up off the edge of the desk and plants you back on the ground - your legs still shaking from how hard you had come.
“Turn around and lean over the desk,” he instructs you, soft but authoritative.
You don't know if it's because of the way he's looking at you or because of how good he's already made you feel, but in that moment, you would've done anything he asked of you.
You bend over the desk, supporting yourself by leaning on your forearms. You peak back over your shoulder to look at Bucky - he hikes your dress up, baring your ass to him.
He lets out an audible groan before he has even pulled your panties down to your ankles.
He kneels on the ground behind you, his face inches away from your cunt. He uses both his flesh and metal hands to spread you open for him, and then his tongue is licking up your center from behind.
God, you hope no one tries to come into this room. The door may be locked but the sounds that someone would hear if they even walked up to the door…
Bucky knows just how to make you writhe above him. He's soft when he's kissing up your folds and unsparing when he's sucking your clit between his lips. His hands hold your ass in a firm grasp that teeters between pleasure and pain.
You grind back against his face and he moans so deeply that you feel the vibration of it up your core. Your eyes roll back into your head as you clutch the sides of the desk to better support yourself.
His enthusiasm alone has you spiraling towards a second climax embarrassingly fast.
“You know,” he murmurs against your sensitive pussy. “When I overheard you say that someone had refused to go down on you, I couldn't believe it. What a fuckin idiot to pass this up.” He gives your ass cheek a firm slap with his flesh hand before diving his face between your legs once more.
It's just seconds before you feel the telltale pressure growing in your lower belly once more. You go limp against the table, Bucky placing his hands on the backs of your thighs to help keep you upright as you ride out your orgasm on his face.
You continue to lay against the desk as you regain control of your breathing. Bucky stands up, tugging your panties up your legs and back around your waist as he does. He then shimmies your dress back down into place so that you're once again looking club-appropriate.
When you turn around to face him, he's wiping your slick from his lower face on the sleeve of his suit, once again displaying a shit-eating grin.
“What was it you said?” He asks in mocking contemplation. “You had lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to you by another person again?”
“I think you've made your point. You're fantastic at eating pussy and you're a walking human-sex toy.” You roll your eyes at him and start to walk towards the door, but he grabs your wrist in his metal hand, stopping you.
He pulls you back to him and brings his flesh hand to cradle your jawline. He stares at you in a heavy, uncertain silence for a split second before bringing his lips to yours.
It's a kiss that's a bit more hesitant, and a lot less rushed than the one before. You taste yourself all over him, warm and salty. He takes his time getting lost in your mouth - you savor every second and it still comes to and end all too once.
“Couldn't help myself,” he smiles softly when he pulls away. “Just had to kiss you one last time.”
You can't help the way your heart skips a beat when he says the word last.
You clear your throat. “We should probably go find Sam and Natasha,” you say, giving him a small smile in return. “I'm sure they're both wondering where the hell we are.”
You spend the rest of the evening attempting to mingle with friends, but there's one thought that torments you for the remaining duration of the night - just a few hours ago, you doubted that you'd ever have a satisfactory hook-up ever again.
Now, you had to wonder if anyone else could ever make you feel as good as Bucky did.
♡♡♡♡♡
i left this kind of open-ended soooo leave it to your own interpretation what happens next for them 🤭
as always comments/reblogs are infinitely appreciated. thanks for reading!
my masterlist
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bacchuschucklefuck · 6 months ago
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soon it'll be dawn again
transcript under the cut ⏬
page 01
Fig: no way? - you're still up?
Riz: Wh– yes?
Riz: Why'd I not be.
page 02
Fig: I me~~ean - that took.
Fig: whole day.
Riz: Yeah?
Fig: 'm beat.
Riz: you should sleep.
page 03
Fig: nah. my guy's still up
Fig: I wanna hang out.
page 04
Riz: That's really nice.
Fig: Hah! - Nobody ever expects an Archdevil rockstar to be nice.
Riz: … yeah. - 's just budget work tho. (the stuff I'm working on) - I've heard it's boring.
page 05
Fig: yeah, but you do it…
Riz: It keeps things going, right? - Nothing happens if nobody sits down and - does the thing.
Fig: That's right… - though. Yeah.
page 06
Fig: sometimes it's someone else who - doesn't want the same thing to happen.
Riz: … - mm.
page 07
Riz (off screen): …It took me a long time to get that not everyone likes doing what I do. - 's probably because you guys are so nice– - or. - kind.
Riz (off screen): to anyone too, not just. - the people you /love/.
page 08
Riz: that's not how it is elsewhere. - The world's– not. hostile. - but 's not like it's kind.
Riz: So I'm doing as much as I can now… 
page 09
Fig: Hey.
Riz: ?
Fig: Go dig some dirt with me.
page 10
Riz: [blank speech bubble] - oh you meant like - actual dirt. (not incriminating information)
Fig: o yea.
Fig: there's clay in the backyard soil. - sometimes when I'm sun deficient or something I go touch dirt for a bit.
page 11
Fig: here u go
page 12
Riz: uh
Fig: now we make a thing! - 'm pretty good at freehanding a bowl.
Fig: I'll show u
page 13
Fig: just– yep, flatten that out as evenly as u can, then–! - actually ur nails'd be so good at cutting out the strip. [larger than usual space] wait. - wait. wait u can carve patterns with them! we HAVE to try
Riz: uh - What. do I carve?
Fig: anything!!!
page 14
Fig: and– yep just seal the inside uh. seam?
Fig: yep that works - okay time's up! all contestant hands up
Riz: [blank speech bubble] - okay - wh. what's next?
Fig: haha - watch this.
(sound effect text): FWOO—MP
page 15
Riz: WH– DON'T JUST DO THAT???
Fig: Now it's fired!
Riz: THAT WAS NOT SAFE
Fig: (actually it's just dry. if u add water rn it'll dissolve)
Fig: ok catch!
Riz: [blank speech bubble] - careful!!
Fig: dw no need haha
page 16
Riz (thought bubble): oh - it's warm…
Fig: now I want you to throw this.
page 17
Fig: u gotta do it - c'mon
page 18
Riz: wh– - It's like 3AM right now
Fig: oh it's not /fired/ fired it's not gonna make a loud noise
Riz: And then just? leave a pile out here?
Fig: pour water over it & it'll be gone I told u
Riz: but
page 19
Fig (off screen): RIz.
page 20
Fig: I've done all this before.
Fig: Can you trust that at least?
page 21
Riz: no, I– - I do. - I trust you.
page 23
Riz: okay what happens now
(sound effect text): glob
page 24
Fig: we do it again!
page 25
Riz: wh. [larger than usual space] What do you mean. (this clay's too wet also)
Fig: see! you're already learning
Fig: [blank speech bubble] - there are flows that are futile to fight. - The world changes.
Fig: Things change.
page 26
Fig: I've learned my lessons with "forevers". - But - as an artist
Fig: I can give you one thing: - You can always do it again.
page 27
Fig: most of everything depends on the rest of the world, - but this. - making new. - that's yours as long as you want it.
page 28
Fig: So?
page 29
Riz: Yeah. - Yeah! - let's make another one.
#dimension 20#fantasy high junior year#fhjy#riz gukgak#figueroth faeth#technically no spoilers in this comic but listen. I Will be gloating in tags. I will Never Shut Up#for the record!! this was fully conceptualized and sketched Before the finales. I started sketching this after the boat fight#and when murph closed riz's arc this season with ''maybe it's okay to change and welcome new things'' I pogged irl#I am simply the best at reading comprehension what can I say! (<- grown ass man with roughly the same perspective on teenhood as the player#fucked up that this became so long (almost 30 squares lol) that it took me this long to finish#lmao I say all that but. genuinely I am delirious and my feelings abt riz's arc this season are so big... I was getting psychic backlash#for a While lol. it was scary!!#had to sit down and do therapy on my own ass for a bit. the teenage apocalyticisation is real. that word isnt tho Im pretty sure#truly anything you do at that age feels like that's it that's all you've got going on forever. and its not true! its simply not true#you'll be okay my guy. you love your friends so so much but also there will be more to love out there#this one goes out to fellow aroaces and also folks leaving somewhere theyve called home for a long time#nothing lasts forever but that means new things come by too! ur ability to make new is infinite!!#there's no magnum opus people leave but new people come by too etc. I am too sleepy to remember what I wanted to say uhhh#well. thank u for looking at my art. I think thats the one pack it n ship it boys
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muniimyg · 6 days ago
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♡ 03: where art thou? why not upon-eth me?
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series m.list // taglist
note: u can all thank my prof for pushing back my case study due date 😍 ,, tbh i give u cute moments in this pt and then i ruin ur life at the end <3 flood my asks and i'll update soon HAHAH ,, mwwaaaa
warnings: oc flirts with jk a lot ,, smut (sort of) ,, oc slaps jk ,, big fight lol
//
for obvious reasons, that car ride changed everything. 
it’s like a switch flips in your mind, a new experiment, a new challenge. you’re determined to push him. test him. see how far you can go without him snapping.
so, the week begins and you take notes. like a scientist, you’re methodical. 
careful.
but your methods are anything but innocent. 
you're testing him with everything you can think of: words, touches, close proximity—anything to see how he reacts. 
and fuck, does he react.
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when monday rolls around, you start subtle. 
you’re sending him texts, clingy and cute, with just the right amount of affection to make his insides churn. you’re expecting a response, something—anything. but when the texts go unanswered for hours, your smile falters for just a second. 
his replies come in cold, sparse, detached.
nerd [12:13PM]: u’re trying too hard  nerd [12:18PM]: stfu for the rest of the day, yea?
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on tuesday night, you attempt to perfect the art of being close without overdoing it. 
it’s a delicate balance—teasing the line between friendly and intimate, but you feel confident… partly because the circumstances are on your side. mentally, you thank jimin for inviting you over to join their movie night. 
as you sit next to him on the couch, your body just a little too close, brushing against him ever so slightly. your shoulder presses against his, the fabric of your shirt grazing his skin. 
it’s subtle, but it’s enough to make him feel the weight of your presence beside him. you watch him out of the corner of your eye, waiting for any sign, any reaction. his eyes stay glued to the screen, but you catch the subtle tension in his shoulders. 
you can feel it in the way his muscles tighten, like he’s aware but is trying to pretend otherwise.
you don’t pull away. 
instead, you lean in further, your body pressing against his just a little bit more. you can feel the heat radiating from him, and it makes your heart race. you let your head gently rest on his shoulder, letting the weight of it fall naturally.
for a moment, his body is still, like he’s frozen in place. his breathing stays steady, controlled, but you can tell he’s aware. his jaw tightens ever so slightly, and you notice the way his fingers twitch, like they’re itching to push you away, but he doesn’t. his hand, though relaxed, sits just inches from yours, and you can almost feel the friction between the two of you, an invisible force keeping you both in place.
"are you serious?" he glares at you.
you take note that his voice is flat but tinged with something else—like he’s trying to convince himself this is all just a joke.
you smile, pretending to play innocent. 
“what?”
“___…” he warns. “… fuck. whatever.”
“yeah?” you tease. “whatever? jungkook, i’m just sitting here, enjoying the movie," you say, tone light, as if there’s nothing unusual about the way your body is pressed so close to his.
he shifts uncomfortably, but you can tell it’s not a total rejection. 
his arm, once resting by his side, is now slightly tense, fingers flexing just a bit. 
“you’re really pushing it today," he adds, his voice gruff, but there’s no real bite behind it—just a hint of reluctant amusement. “the guys will notice.”
you don’t move.
you just stay there, head still resting against his shoulder, feeling the way his body stays taut beneath you. 
“let them.”
his jaw tightens again, but he doesn’t push you away. 
instead, his arm stiffens where it rests against the back of the couch, like he’s holding himself back. 
“you comfortable?”
“mhm,” you answer half-heartedly. 
“with me?" he says, raising an eyebrow as he looks at you sideways. "keep lying to yourself. you should quit this shit soon.”
you smile knowingly.
his words are harsher than he means them to be, but his body says otherwise. he’s not pulling away, not really. his chest rises and falls with a quiet exhale, and you can feel the warmth of his body seeping into yours.
“if it’s so shit, then you move." you murmur, pressing just a little closer.
he shakes his head, his hand twitching again like he’s about to do something, but he doesn’t. 
instead, he leans his head back against the couch and tries to focus on the movie. you can tell he’s trying to hide the way his breath catches whenever you get too close, but you notice it all the same.
the silence settles, but it's different now. 
you’re closer, and you can feel the way the tension thickens. he doesn’t push you away, and he doesn’t pull closer, but his body is no longer stiff. 
there’s a slight shift—a crack in the armor, just enough for you to know you’re making progress.
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when wednesday arrives, the tension between you and jungkook shifts. you can feel it in the air—a subtle change, like a shift in the current. you’ve pushed him just enough that now, you know he’s starting to feel something. 
maybe it’s curiosity, maybe irritation, but whatever it is, it’s there. 
and that’s when you go for it.
you’ve intruded his home for the 2nd time this week (thank you yoongi for the emergency key). you’re standing behind him as he fiddles with something at the counter. you glance at him, making sure the space between you is just close enough that you can brush up against him without making it too obvious. 
you take your time as you lean across the counter to grab a mug. 
the movement is slow and deliberate. you make sure your boobs brush against his arm as you do. he’s taller than you so no matter what; it’s inevitable. 
he’ll see what you intend for him to see.
it’s casual like you’re just going about your business… but you watch him carefully, studying his reaction. his body stiffens for the briefest second. his eyes flicker, narrowing, before he quickly schools his features again, turning away slightly. 
but you see it—you feel the way his jaw tightens, the way his shoulders shift. 
it’s all there, even though he tries to play it cool.
you don’t move away. 
instead, you linger just a little longer, standing closer than you need to, your body just a bit too close to his. you watch as his eyes flicker, the smallest hint of frustration in his gaze, before it softens into something you can’t quite place. 
maybe it’s confusion. maybe it’s something more.
“you look handsome today,” you say, the words slipping out with that playful, almost too-casual tone. though your voice is light, there’s a little challenge in it. you know how it sounds, and you know it’s enough to get under his skin.
for a moment, there’s a beat of silence. 
he doesn’t flinch. 
doesn’t even look at you directly. 
… but you can feel the weight of his gaze on you, and when you glance at him, you see his lips pressed together tightly. his face is impassive, but you know better. he’s holding back, trying to keep it together.
“cut it out,” he utters under his breath. 
it’s not the sharp command you expect, though. it’s more like a warning. like, he’s not sure what to do with the way you’re pushing him. his gaze flickers down to your lips for a fraction of a second before he quickly looks away.
you grin, knowing you’ve struck a nerve. 
then, you pull back just slightly, but you don’t move too far. you keep your body close, letting the space between you linger with tension. slowly, your eyes flicker to his, catching the way his gaze darts between your eyes and lips, and the flicker of hesitation in his expression.
you know it’s working. 
the coldness is a mask, a shield, but it’s starting to crack. the way his body tightens ever so slightly, the way his breath hitches for a fraction of a second, it’s all the proof you need. he’s trying to pretend he’s not affected, but you can see through it.
innocently, you tilt your head, studying him. 
"what’s wrong, jungkook?" you ask, your tone dripping with false sweetness. "did i make you uncomfortable? or just horny?”
he looks at you for a long moment, his eyes narrowing again, but you see the shift in him. 
he’s not as cold as he wants to be. 
there’s something softer in the way he looks at you now, the way his shoulders relax just a little. but the silence stretches between you, and you can feel the unspoken words beginning to weigh in.
jungkook stays quiet but the tension is undeniable, and you know—you know—he’s not as unaffected as he wants to be.
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on thursday, you decide to be a menace.
the timing has to be perfect, so you wait outside jungkook’s lecture hall, pretending to be on your phone. 
when the doors open, students file out in waves, and there he is—black hoodie, backpack slung over one shoulder, looking as effortlessly cool as ever. he’s walking with a few of his classmates, casually chatting. you wait until he’s just a few feet away before stepping into his path.
the bump is perfectly orchestrated. 
your shoulder brushes his, and your notebook, pens, and phone all tumble to the ground with an exaggerated clatter.
“oh no…” you sigh dramatically, crouching down immediately to gather your scattered belongings. jungkook stops, his classmates following suit, their conversation halting as they glance at you and then down at your outfit—a fitted crop top and a tiny skirt that rides up a little too much when you kneel.
you hear a low whistle from one of the guys behind jungkook.
“damn,” someone murmurs, and that’s all it takes for him to snap. 
his jaw tightens as he bends down next to you, shoving your phone and notebook into a messy pile before grabbing your forearm, and making you stand.
“seriously?” he mutters, glancing behind him at his classmates, who are still ogling. “you couldn’t wait to drop all this somewhere without an audience?”
you blink innocently, brushing off your skirt as you stand. 
“it was an accident,” you pout at him. “but thanks for helping.”
his glare softens, but only slightly. he bends down again, this time crouching low and deliberately blocking the view of his classmates as he picks up your things.
“wanna introduce me to your nerd friends—“
when he straightens up, he thrusts the pile into your hands, but before you can even say anything, he asks, “where are you going?”
you hesitate, taken aback by the question. “uh, the other side of campus...”
jungkook doesn’t miss a beat. 
“i’ll walk you.”
“really?” you say, surprised, but already grinning. he looks like he regrets offering the second the words leave his mouth, but he doesn’t take it back. “you don’t have to. did you have a meeting or something with your marine conservation club?” 
he tilts his head at you. 
“what? i’m not mr. save the dolphins today? your tiny brain actually remembers my club name?”
you shrug.
“i’m not that dumb.”
“so you say,” he grumbles. “but yeah. i do have a meeting. i’ll just attend it late.”
gasping, you let out a last-minute squeal. “mr. perfect attendance is tarnishing his rep for me?”
“it’s fine,” he says flatly, glancing back at his friends and muttering something about catching up with them later. before you can tease any further, he’s taking your notebook and phone from your hands, tucking them under his arm as if it’s his duty now.
as the two of you walk, you chatter away, filling the silence. 
normally, he’d roll his eyes or tell you to be quiet, but today, he listens. 
he nods occasionally, even hums in acknowledgment, though his eyes are straight ahead, his expression carefully neutral. you can’t help but notice, though, the way his hand finds its way to your waist—lightly at first, almost hesitant, but then it lingers, his fingers splayed across your side as though keeping you close.
and then, as if his subconscious takes over, his hand slips lower, brushing against the curve of your ass. your steps falter for a moment, and you turn to look at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.
“jungkook?” you say, arching a brow. “y-your hand…”
he blinks, glances down, and quickly pulls his hand back, shoving it into the pocket of his hoodie as it burns him. 
“shut up,” he hushes you, his ears turning red. "you wanna act like an ass? at least give me some."
you laugh, loud and unapologetic, and he glares at you, his lips pressed into a thin line. 
but you notice the way his shoulders are less tense now, the faint hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. he doesn’t say anything as he walks you the rest of the way, carrying your things like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
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on friday, you leave him alone.
no texts, no calls, and no showing up.
by 2pm; jeon jungkook realizes he misses you.
so, jungkook caves.
nerd [3:02PM]: wya? nerd [3:04PM]: come over :/ yn [3:08PM]: hiii yn [3:08PM]: what for ? nerd [3:09PM]: sent image attachment nerd [3:09PM]: figure it out ?
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you don’t see jungkook until saturday night.
… which, isn’t too bad considering it would’ve just been like… a day and half since he last saw you—but it was bad. 
jungkook ran through all the possibilities in his head. 
could he be sick?
could he be undergoing some sort of unconscious stress that’s leading him to feel this way about you? 
or… was it finally time for him to accept the truth?
when the doorbell rings, jungkook wants to answer it. 
but he stops himself.
he isn’t easy. 
he doesn’t want to be. 
instead, he lets one of the guys answer it. 
as you walk into the room, you’re greeted with the view of the guys are lounging around, a few beers and snacks spread across the coffee table. jungkook is in his usual spot, slouched in the corner of the couch, his hood up, legs stretched out like he owns the place.
he looks up when you enter, his dark eyes flicking to yours for just a second before darting away, as if the sight of you doesn’t make his heart trip over itself. you catch the subtle change in his posture—he straightens ever so slightly, his legs pulling in just a bit, his shoulders losing their slump.
“hi,” you call out, your voice light and warm as you shrug off your coat.
he nods at you, keeping his face neutral. 
“hey,” he replies, the word coming out gruff, almost dismissive, but you don’t miss the way his gaze lingers as you move to take a seat. 
you plop down on the couch next to him, close enough that your thigh brushes his. he stiffens at the contact, his hand twitching where it rests on his knee, but he doesn’t shift away.
“mad at me?” you tease, tilting your head to look at him, your lips quirking into a grin.
he looks at you funny. 
“why would i be?”
you shrug.
“you aren’t greeting me like the way i want you to.”
he leans forward. “how do you want me to greet you?”
you pause, pretending to take a moment to think. then, you take his hand and gently place it on your upper inner thigh. his eyes widen and you stroke his hand gently. 
“wanna—”
he scoffs, his expression carefully guarded. jungkook catches your bluff.
“god, you’re annoying.”
yet, the corner of his mouth betrays him, twitching upward just a little.
you giggle and then push his hand off. 
the banter is effortless, the tension between you subtle but electric. 
throughout the evening, you’re all warmth and light, leaning into him when you laugh, your hand brushing his arm or shoulder every chance you get. at first, jungkook attempts to resist. 
his replies are short and his eyes anywhere but on you… but as the hours slip by, you feel him softening, his walls starting to crack just enough for you to sneak through.
then comes the game of mafia.
the group gathers around the coffee table, cards dealt, and jungkook ends up as the supposed villain. the accusations start flying almost immediately.
“you’re way too quiet, man,” taehyung declares, pointing at jungkook with a dramatic flourish. “you’ve got ‘mafia’ written all over you.”
jin chimes in, grinning. “yeah, it’s always the quiet ones. plus, look at him—he’s sweating.”
“i’m not sweating,” jungkook snaps, sitting up straighter, his jaw tightening. “i’m wearing a fucking hoodie and you guys turned up the heat. you're all so fucking bad at this game, you've all been sabotaging me physically!”
the others laugh, piling on more ridiculous accusations. even you can’t help but join in, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips.
“sorry, jungkook,” you say, shrugging with mock innocence. “you do look kind of guilty.”
his eyes snap to yours, and for a moment, something raw flickers there—hurt, maybe, or frustration. his lips part like he’s about to say something, but instead, he pushes back his chair and stands abruptly.
“what the fuck do you know, ___?”
old habits die hard.
“chill,” yoongi warns. “it’s just a game.”
“whatever,” jungkook says, his voice clipped. “this game’s stupid anyway.”
without another word, he turns and storms off, leaving the room in stunned silence. the sound of his bedroom door slamming echoes.
the group exchanges awkward glances before taehyung leans toward you with a teasing smirk. 
“our boyfriend is in a mood… what should we do?”
jin chuckles. “___, you should probably go check on him before he sulks himself into oblivion.”
rolling your eyes, you push yourself up from the couch. 
“he’s so dramatic,” you chime, but there’s a softness to your voice as you head up the stairs and down the hall towards his room. 
a part of you hesitates… partly because of the event that occurred the last time you were here. but, you shrug it off. as you stand before his door, you raise your fist to knock but abruptly, he swings his door open.
“what do you want?”
“how’d you know—”
“you’ve got heavy ass fucking feet.”
you hiss at him. “yah, sore loser energy does not look good on you.”
opening the door wider, you step inside. he huffs and sits on the edge of his bed. with his hood still up, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, he glares at you with a mix of irritation and something else—something softer.
“did they send you up here to check up on me? what did they bribe you with this time?”
“nothing actually,” you answer him truthfully. “i’ve got my own motivations.”
jungkook can’t help but crack half a smile. 
“like what?”
you lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms with a small, knowing smile. “wouldn’t you like to know?”
before he lets himself enjoy this moment, his jaw tightens, and he looks away. his gaze fixes on the floor. 
“why’d you turn on me?” he huffs, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable.
you push off the doorframe, stepping closer.
“it’s just a game, jungkook,” you say gently, your voice deliberately soft. “you’re not actually mad, are you?”
his shoulders tense, a flicker of something crossing his face—annoyance, maybe, but there’s something deeper underneath. his hands clench into fists on his thighs, the muscles in his forearms flexing as though he’s trying to ground himself.
“it’s not the game,” he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper, rough and raw like it was dragged out of him against his will.
you blink, caught off guard by the weight of his tone. “then what is it?”
his jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t answer. his fingers twitch at his sides, and then he’s dragging a hand through his hair, pushing back his hood. his hair falls messily over his forehead, but he doesn’t fix it. when his eyes finally meet yours, it’s like being hit with a tidal wave—anger, frustration, and something else that makes your breath catch.
“you.”
your heart stutters in your chest, but you keep your composure, tilting your head slightly. “me?”
he exhales sharply, shaking his head like he’s trying to find the right words.
“you play too much.”
his voice is rough but lacking its usual sharpness.
“you get in my head… and then you just—” he cuts himself off, the frustration rolling off him in waves. his leg bounces slightly, and his hands grip his thighs again, knuckles pale from the tension.
“you don’t even care,” he says finally, his voice quieter now, almost like he doesn’t want to admit it. “what the fuck were you doing to me all week? experimenting or some shit? fuck, isn’t your major psychology or something? you’re basically being trained to be a psycho.”
the jab stings, but you ignore it. instead, your chest tightens at his words, the vulnerability he’s trying so hard to bury beneath his irritation. you take a step closer, your knees almost brushing his.
“i do care,” you say softly, reaching out, your fingers brushing against his knuckles.
his gaze drops to where your fingers touch his, and for a moment, he’s completely still, like he doesn’t know what to do. then, slowly, his hand turns over, palm-up, brushing against yours with a hesitance that makes your chest ache.
“then can you stop messing with me?”
there’s something about his tone—about the way he says this. his words are one thing, but the ache of his deliverance is completely something else.
“i wasn’t messing with you,” you whisper, your gaze locked on his.
his lips part slightly, and his breathing is uneven as his eyes search your face, like he’s looking for something—an answer, a hint, anything.
“then what are you doing?”
you lean in, closing the distance just enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. your smile is soft, almost teasing, but there’s a weight behind it.
“making you want me.”
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jungkook is good. 
you have no idea how or why, but your underwear and skirt are on the other side of his bedroom floor. 
your legs are spread wide for him, as he licks his fingers and begins to gently drag it inside your folds. he separates them before lowering himself in. he looks at you, not breaking any eye contact as he flicks his tongue against your clit. 
you clench your fist. 
after a few licks and sucks, he lifts his head away. he brings his fingers to your mouth, cueing you to suck on them. 
you do. 
as he places his thick fingers inside, you part your mouth and suck on them. bobbing your head and twisting your tongue around his digits as you suck—jungkook winces at the way you do so. 
“fuck,” he utters. 
as he takes his fingers out, he begins to massage your folds. his pressure is firm yet pleasurable. his fingers trace around your entrance and play with your clit. you feel your toes curling as he breathes near your pussy. 
it pulsates. 
he can’t help it. the view is just too fucking perfect. jungkook massages your folds, spreading them a part before he spits on it. he takes his thumb and rubs in his saliva. massaging it in, slowly and surely—mixing it with your wetness. 
“good kitty,” jungkook praises. “your pretty pussy is swelling up, ___. what’s going on? excited? horny? happy? you’re so wet, baby. so fucking—do you hear it?”
jungkook shoves his fingers inside you, curling and pumping them in and out. you gasp at the sharpness but feel completely immersed in his act. 
.. and yes.
you do hear it.
you hear how wet your fucking pussy is.
“o-oh my god! j-jungkook—”
“yeah, baby?”
your stomach twists. 
“d-don’t—stop. stop calling me—”
“sorry,” he apologizes quickly, shifting his body to tower over you. he caresses your face, his thumb lingering on your bottom lip. then, he kisses your cheek and trails his kisses down to your neck. you moan at his softness. 
he’s so close to you. it’s only now that you realize how addictive he is.. from the way he smells to the way his touches make you feel…
he’s perfect.
in this moment, he is everything to you.
“sorry,” he repeats against your skin. “i’m sorry, kitty.”
you gulp. 
“do you forgive me?” he pouts, resting his forehead against yours. “hmm? forgive me, please.”
“i forgive you,” you breathe. “c-can you—”
just as you reach for him, he shakes his head. 
“can’t kiss you,” jungkook sighs. “won’t know how to get rid of you after.”
you smile. 
“you wanna get rid of me after this?”
jungkook stays quiet. 
you shift. 
“no.”
just as jungkook leans in, your lips inches a part—
the door suddenly creaks open.
a girl—someone you didn’t recognize—steps halfway in, her hand still on the doorknob, her brows lifting in surprise when she sees the two of you.
her eyes darts between your flushed face and jungkook.
“oh, shit! uh—sorry,” she says quickly, taking a step back but still lingering awkwardly in the doorway. “i didn’t know you had a tutoring session before mine... i’ll, um, come back later, then? sorry to interrupt.”
before you can even process her words, she’s gone, the door clicking shut behind her. the sound left a hollow sort of silence in its wake like the air had been sucked out of the room.
you blink at the now-closed door, the words tutoring session before mine looping in your head like a broken record. your chest tightens, heat crawls up your neck as you turn back to jungkook. 
his expression is already shifting, panic bleeding into his features.
you shift your body entirely, pushing him off you.
“wait,” he starts, “shit, ___. it’s not like that—”
“okay,” you say flatly. 
you get up from his bed and grab your underwear and skirt. yanking them on, your movements frustrate jungkook. 
he doesn’t know what to do. 
in any and every angle—he’s in the wrong.
“i’m sorry, okay?” he tries again, stepping closer. his voice was softer now, almost pleading. “it wasn’t—i didn’t know she’d just barge in like that. i thought the door was locked—”
you shove past him, your shoulder brushing his as you make your way toward the door. you could feel the pressure building behind your eyes, a sick mix of anger and humiliation clawing at your throat.
“wait—” his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist, but you ripped it free, spinning around to glare at him.
“don’t.”
“___, please—”
“it’s not about whether or not the door was locked—” you choke, “it’s… fuck. tutoring session, really? is that what i am right now? is that what she is—”
“no,” jungkook answers sternly. “holy fuck, please. let’s talk about this—”his jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to let you go, to just let you leave. but then he took a step forward, his voice sharp and cutting—
“___, what did you want from me?”
you freeze, your hand still on the doorknob, your back to him. the words hit you like a slap, knocking the wind out of you.
jungkook takes a chance. 
he steps closer to you. 
“... because, honestly, i don’t think you even know.”
you stay quiet. 
jungkook clears his throat. 
“well, fuck. if you don’t know, then it’s not my fault,” he says, his tone hard now, defensive. “you can't want things from me and then not know how to handle shit, ___. you don’t get to make me another one of your fucking situationships. you wanted me to want you and this—holy shit. this isn't my fault. it’s yours—”
suddenly, your palm connects with his cheek before you even realize it. the sound of the slap reverberates in the room. his head jerked to the side, and for a moment, he just stands there, stunned.
your hand stung, your chest heaving as you stared at him, your vision blurring at the edges.
“i hate you.”
“___, i’m sorry—”
but it’s too late. 
you don’t even bother looking back as you storm out of jungkook’s room, your chest heaving with a mix of anger and humiliation. the tears are already burning at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them back, determined not to let them fall. your feet carry you down the hall, towards the stairs, your vision blurry with rage.
“wait—” jungkook’s voice echoes behind you, followed by the thud of his footsteps as he chases after you. he hustles, dressing himself as he goes after you.
“fuck off!” you snap, your voice trembling but firm.
he doesn’t listen. 
of course, he doesn’t. 
“holy shit—please! ___, stop. just fucking hear me out—” he pleads, his tone exasperated, like he doesn’t know what else to say.
“stop?” you spin around halfway down the stairs, glaring up at him. “stop what, jungkook? stop assuming? stop feeling humiliated? stop—”
your voice cracks, and you hate how raw it sounds.
“whatever.”
jungkook freezes on the step above you, his lips parted as if he’s going to respond, but nothing comes out.
you don’t wait for him to gather his words. 
you turn back and keep walking, practically jogging down the last few steps and into the living room where everyone else is. their laughter dies down the second they see you—flustered, teary-eyed, and furious—followed immediately by jungkook chasing after you.
“uh, what’s happening?” namjoon asks, his eyebrows raised as he glances between you and jungkook.
“are you two fighting?” jin’s tone is a mix of concern and curiosity, his head tilting as he watches the scene unfold.
"fuck," jungkook groans. "no shit, hyung."
“guys, let’s all chill,” taehyung interjects, raising his hands like a referee. “we’re all friends here—”
“he’s no friend.” you cut him off, your voice sharp and laced with emotion. you’re trembling now, fighting the tears that threaten to spill over. 
the room goes silent.
even taehyung, who was halfway through a casual shrug, stops mid-gesture. everyone’s eyes dart to jungkook, whose expression shifts from startled to pained in a split second.
“what am i to you, then?” jungkook asks, his voice low but audible enough in the tense quiet. he takes a step toward you, his hand reaching out before falling limply to his side. 
you don’t answer. 
you just shake your head, the tears finally breaking free as you turn on your heel and head for the door. the air feels suffocating, and you need to get out of there before your emotions betray you any further.
“wait—” jungkook’s voice cracks, and for a moment, it sounds like he’s desperate. he jogs after you again, his hand catching your wrist just as you’re about to reach the front door.
“why the fuck are you so pissed about this?” jungkook cries. “holy shit, you’re infuriating. you know that?”
“are you done?” you ask him coldly. 
a beat. 
“do you want me to be?”
731 notes · View notes
oddinary4bts · 5 months ago
Text
Chasing Cars | ch 7 (jjk)
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☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: hangover, curses, alcohol, leg day at the gym, jungkook's reputation, a v dangerous game of spin the bottle, explicit content: jungkook's ass, hickeys, oral sex (female and male receiving), praising, fingering, marking, mouth fucking, hair pulling, spitting, degradation, protected sex,
☆word count: 15k (whoops)
☆a/n: more frustration?? and then not. Enjoy <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
Saturday, March 2nd
[08:12 am] bröther👽: call me when ure up
You’ve been ignoring the text since you woke up an hour and a half ago. Pretending that you never received it, pretending that Jimin held his promise and didn’t tell anything to Taehyung. 
It’s a foolish dream – the text is proof enough that Taehyung knows, or at least perhaps suspects something about you and Jungkook. You don’t know what to do, what to think, so you ignore it altogether.
Maybe if you ignore it long enough, it’ll disappear.
Maybe if you ignore it long enough, yesterday won’t have happened. 
Jungkook invades your thoughts, his drunken kiss chasing everything else away. Your blood heats up, your cheeks redden, and your heart is beating faster in your chest as you relive the scene, again and again. 
You’ve been reliving it all night long, the ghost of his soft lips on yours haunting you in your sleep. 
You sigh, rolling on your side, hiding your face in your pillow. You’re aware you should get up, but you can’t bring yourself to, too afraid to run into Jungkook. Though you haven’t heard him move from his room, and you assume he’s fighting against his hangover, or maybe he’s still asleep. Another sigh escapes your lips as you turn on your back, looking up to the ceiling. 
Maybe Jungkook was drunk enough to forget about last night. It’d make things easier - maybe then you won’t have to confront him at all. But you know it’s wishful thinking - he was steady enough to kiss you dumb, so you highly doubt he’ll forget.
Especially if the kiss stole the breath from him like it did to you…
You groan, turning to hide your face in a pillow again. Maybe you should disappear, vanish into shadows until you don’t have to talk to your brother or to Jungkook. Or maybe you should just move to another country and start a new life.
You hate this. You wish it’d be easier, simpler, but of course you had to get involved with your brother’s best friend. It feels like the start of a corny teenage drama, the kind of thing you’d once watched with reverence.
Now you know it to be hell. 
Your phone vibrates a couple of times on the mattress where you left it, multiple text messages coming in at the same time. You raise your head from the pillow, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen, but from this angle you can’t see who texted you. Annoyed, you roll until you can grab your phone, and you look down at the screen, squinting your eyes.
Your eyes widen, and your heart stops beating far too long for it to be normal. And then you gulp, rereading the messages to make sure you aren’t imagining anything.
[10:12 am] bröther👽: plz call soon, got some plans tonight [10:12 am] Nabi: do u want to go shopping this afternoon? [10:12 am] JK: sorry about last night. do we have painkillers?
The texts don’t change. In truth, you don’t mind about Taehyung or Nabi. You just didn’t expect Jungkook to text you, especially not to apologize. It makes you think about the kiss, though differently this time. 
Is he really apologetic? Or does he only believe it to be the right thing to do? You can’t tell. But you still get out of bed, going to the bathroom so that you can retrieve painkillers for him. You make a pit-stop by the kitchen to pour him a glass of water, and then you walk to his bedroom. You stop in front of the door, heart suddenly beating out of your chest. 
This is just Jungkook, you try to remind yourself. Nothing to be worried about. Except that he’s your brother’s best friend, and that you fucked, and that you can’t really get him out of your head now…
You take a deep steadying breath, and then you gently rap your knuckles on the door. You wait for a few seconds, awaiting an answer, but none come. 
“Jungkook?” you let out.
A long groan replies, and you can’t stop the smile that grows on your lips.
“Can I come in?”
Another groan answers, though this time Jungkook eventually says, “Yes.”
So you turn the doorknob, pushing the door open. Jungkook’s room is neater than you’d expected it to be - a few scattered items of clothing lay on the floor, and the dark monitor of his PC setup faces you. You scan the rest of the room, your cheeks turning bright red when you notice Jungkook.
Mostly, you notice Jungkook’s ass, as he’s lying on his belly, naked, over the covers. 
“Put some damn clothes on,” you blurt, looking away from him.
He groans. “Don’t speak so loud, shit.” A few seconds of silence, and then he adds, “Besides, you’ve seen me naked before.”
“You have no shame,” you grumble, but you still step into his room. “I got you painkillers.”
“Why have shame when you’ve got a body like mine?” he teases, raising his head. A boyish smile sports his lips, though he quickly lets his head fall back down, grunting. “Thanks for the painkillers.”
To your relief, he pulls a blanket over him as he turns, hiding the lower half of his body. He sits up, wincing, and you hand the water and the pills to him. He looks at them like they’re foreign, before patting the bed next to him.
“Don’t be shy,” he says, leaning back against his headboard. The one you’ve heard banging in your wall way too many times. “I don’t bite.”
You roll your eyes. “Just take the damn pills.”
He pouts, lower lip jutting out, and you ignore the way it makes your heart race in your chest. He finally grabs the painkillers, and you blush as your fingers brush, electricity jolting through you.
How can he have such an effect on you?
“Thank you,” Jungkook lets out once he’s taken the white pills and downed the water.
You nod. “I’ll let you sleep it off, now.”
“Is my room so not inviting?” he teases as you’re walking out. 
You turn around, leaning against the door frame, arms folded on your chest. “We can’t do this.”
“We can be friends,” he says, features serious as he holds your gaze. Though you struggle to keep your eyes on his - his strong body invites the gaze, and you seek to explore the planes of his body.
He must have noticed it because he breaks into a smirk
“Friends wear clothes around each other,” you reply.
He rolls his eyes, sighing deeply. “Is my body that bad?”
“Do you really need the compliment that bad?”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “So you admit it would be a compliment?”
You shut your eyes in annoyance. “You’re insufferable, Jungkook.”
When your eyes flutter open to that same boyish grin on his lips, you feel yourself folding. You tell him you’ll just get your phone in your room, and then you walk back to his bedroom, hesitantly crossing the threshold. He’s already lying down again, and he’s thankfully pulled the blanket higher over his body.
You sit on the side of his bed, clutching your phone in your hands as if it’s a lifeline. Jungkook’s gaze is heavy on your profile, and you glance at him.
“Don’t worry about yesterday,” you tell him, meeting his gaze.
Big eyes welcome you in, and you feel entranced. You wonder if he feels the same - if your gaze is prison to his eyes as well.
“Are you sure?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.
You shrug. “I kissed you back, didn’t I?”
“You did.” He slowly breaks into a smirk. “You seemed to enjoy it quite a lot.”
“Oh my God,” you let out, making to get up and leave. Jungkook is quick - he grabs your wrist, stopping your motion.
“I’m just teasing you, peach.”
“You can’t tease me like that,” you scold him. “We can’t do that.”
He lets go of your wrist, almost reluctantly. His fingers twitch as they fall on his bed between the two of you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, and you’re surprised at how genuine he sounds.
You nod once. “No worries.”
Eyes locked on his, you both fall silent. You feel like you’re falling forward, like Jungkook really is the sun pulling in the comet that you are. You wonder if he reads everything in your eyes - if he knows that the moment you fucked for the first time, you were gone.
You hate that you are. You feel weak, but how can you resist?
The sound of ringing startles you, cutting through the tension in the room. You look down at your phone in your hands, and your heart drops to your ass at the picture of Taehyung looking back at you.
And maybe you’re hungover too, or perhaps still drunk. Because you don’t think about it - you answer the Facetime call, and you smile a tight-lipped smile as you wait for it to connect.
“Hey loser,” Taehyung greets you when you appear.
The moment his eyes narrow, eyebrows bunching together, you realize your mistake. Somehow, you take it in stride, immediately crafting a lie out of thin air.
Or maybe half a lie.
“Your loser of a best friend got so drunk he needed me to give him painkillers,” you offer as an explanation, and you turn the camera towards Jungkook, who gives a thumbs up, face hidden in his mattress.
“Sounds on brand,” Taehyung replies, features relaxing. “Tough party yesterday?”
“He hosted your friends over here,” you explain, surveying Taehyung through the screen. “He and Jimin got pissed out drunk.”
“Hey, I wasn’t that drunk,” Jungkook interjects, faking offence.
“Shut the fuck up, JK,” Taehyung says, and you really try to read his features. 
Has Jimin told him anything after all?
“What are your plans tonight?” you ask your brother, trying to stir the conversation away from yesterday.
Taehyung smiles. “Date night with this girl,” he says, and he turns the camera towards a pretty girl that you recognize from the Instagram Jungkook showed you. 
“Tae!” she shrieks, and she turns away from the camera.
“She’s shy,” Taehyung says, chuckling. “But we’re going to go eat at a restaurant near the Eiffel Tower.”
“Romantic,” you chime.
His smile grows wider, and you see it in his eyes. You see the light overtaking them, the fond softness that makes him look so young and vulnerable. “Always.” 
There’s a shared silence, interrupted by the shuffling of Jungkook behind you. You look over your shoulder to find him sitting again, and you can’t stop your eyes from dipping down.
You hate that the sheet has slipped. Because you see his semi for half a second before he’s able to hide himself again. If he noticed, Jungkook doesn’t let it show, instead saying into your phone, “Partying without you isn’t the same, bro.”
“We’ll party when you get here,” Taehyung promises. “The French know how to party.”
You stare at Jungkook’s reflection on the screen of your phone, at the smirk that grows on his lips. “Oh, we’ll have catching up to do, I’m sure.”
“Think I can still beat you at beer pong?” Taehyung asks, grinning at his friend.
“Good luck with that,” Jungkook replies. “I’ve been perfecting my form.”
Taehyung bursts out laughing, and Jungkook chuckles behind you. It’s a cute sound - the one he reserves for his close friends. You like the sound, like that he’s comfortable enough around you to let you hear it.
The two friends keep on talking, Jungkook seemingly healed from his hungover as he goes on and on about stuff that happened yesterday. He avoids everything related to you, but he speaks about Lisa, far more than you expected he would. 
So you gulp, listening to him praise the girl, listening to Taehyung asking when he’ll fuck her. It does something ugly to you, and your features fall, though the two men seem to be too focused on their conversation to notice.
Until Jungkook’s gaze dances on your features, and he says, “Sorry, I hi-jacked the conversation.”
You shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”
Yet he slightly furrows his brow, concern seeping into his gaze. It stays for the rest of the conversation, as Taehyung’s girlfriend - Ariane - finally joins in. They look happy, and for a moment, jealousy steals your heart. You’re good at hiding it though, far better than you hide your disappointment from Jungkook speaking about Lisa, and soon enough the conversation reaches its natural end, Ariane and Taehyung needing to head to their reservation.
You tell them goodbye, Jungkook waving at them over your shoulder. The moment the call disconnects, Jungkook says, “You know I don’t care about Lisa.”
You glance at him. “Okay?”
“I’m just trying to make sure he’s not unto us…” he sheepishly adds. “Jimin texted some shit in the group chat last night.”
Your throat goes dry. “He did?”
Jungkook’s tongue darts to toy with his piercings, and he nods once. “Yeah.”
You wait for him to say more, but he only looks at you, features unreadable. “What did he say?” you ask after a few seconds of holding his gaze.
“That you and I are pretty friendly,” he admits. “With a lot of emojis.”
You shut your eyes. “Tae is going to kill me.”
“I wouldn’t be worried about you,” Jungkook reassures you, chuckling lightly. “If he kills someone, I guarantee it will be me.”
“Fuck.”
He nods, then shrugs his shoulders. “It’s not like we can do anything about it.” He holds your gaze for a few more seconds, before glancing outside. “Anyways, I think I’ll head to the gym.”
You tilt your head to the side, a small, disbelieved laugh escaping your mouth. “Aren’t you hungover?”
“Working out helps with headaches,” Jungkook explains. “At least for me.”
Unconvinced, you nod once, and then you get up from where you were sitting on his bed. You cast another glance around his room - your eyes still on a frame with two young boys in Disney World, smiling brightly. You recognize Jungkook in the youngest one, and something about the fact he keeps a picture of him when he was younger on his bedside table is far too endearing.
“You have a brother?” you ask.
His eyes trail to the pictures. “Yeah, Junghyun.”
“I’ve never heard about him before.”
He smiles, winking at you. “You never asked.”
You roll your eyes, though a smile curves your lips upwards as well. “Alright then, I’ll let you go to the gym.”
“Want to come with?” Jungkook asks.
You widen your gaze. “I don’t really go to the gym.”
Jungkook slips out of bed, keeping his sheet around his waist. The muscles on his abdomen move under his skin, and you can’t help but glance down, remembering his semi-erection earlier. You flush entirely red, and Jungkook laughs, clearly knowing where your mind went.
“Never too late to start, peach,” he teases. “I can help you.”
“I’m supposed to go shopping with Nabi this afternoon,” you say, though you haven’t accepted your friend’s invitation yet.
“You don’t need more clothes,” Jungkook says, heading towards a drawer. You watch as he rummages through it, before pulling a pair of black Calvin Klein underwear from it. “You’ve got plenty enough already.”
“And?” you let out. “Girls go shopping for more than clothes, Jungkook.”
He winks at you, before turning his back to you. The sheet drops to the floor, and you immediately look away as he puts his underwear on, facing you again when he’s finally hidden himself from you.
“Please?”
“Please what?” you ask.
“Please come with me?”
There’s a light in his eyes. Something hopeful, vulnerable, and it takes you aback. So much so that you almost take a step back. Your heart goes wild in your chest again, and you hold his gaze.
What would have happened between you and Jeon Jungkook if he wasn’t your brother’s best friend?
“Why do you want me to come?” you ask, sounding a little breathless.
“You’re fun to be around,” Jungkook offers as an explanation, shrugging. “And I prefer working out with people.”
“Can’t you invite Jimin or someone else?”
Jungkook pouts. “Jimin’s hangovers are a lot worse than mine. He won’t want to go out.”
You sigh, holding Jungkook’s gaze as you ponder if you should go or not. If it’s a good idea to spend friendly time with Jungkook after everything that’s happened. But you don’t seem to be able to escape his orbit. Not when his gravity is so strong, his eyes so open.
“Alright,” you say. “But don’t expect me to lift heavy.”
*****
You meet Jungkook in the hall after you’ve both eaten a small breakfast - nothing too heavy before the gym, as Jungkook said. He offers you a friendly smile, and then he looks down your frame, the smile melting into a smirk that makes your blood eat up in your veins.
“You look hot, peach.”
You sigh, rolling your eyes. “You’ve never seen a girl in sports leggings before?” you ask as you make your way to the closet so that you can pull your coat out.
Jungkook is already wearing his, and he watches you as you put your coat on, stuffing your phone in the pocket before zipping it up.
“None that look as good as you,” he flirts.
“Shut up,” you grumble, slightly shaking your head. 
“What! It’s true,” he insists, and you push him towards the door so that he moves away from your boots. 
You put them on, before grabbing a pair of sneakers from the closet as well. Once you straighten, Jungkook grabs the shoes from you, stuffing them in his gym bag as you go to retrieve your purse from where you left it in the kitchen, cursing yourself for not grabbing it before putting your boots on.
You meet Jungkook in the hall again, and he leads you outside, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Careful, it’s pretty icy.”
You nod, and you hold onto the railing of the staircase, following behind Jungkook after you’ve locked the door. You successfully make it to the bottom, and then he guides you to his car. As you climb in the passenger seat, Jungkook throws his gym bag on the backseat, before walking around the car to sit behind the wheel.
As he turns the key in the engine, you pull your phone out of your pocket. You go to Nabi’s conversation, feeling bad that you will have to decline her invitation.
[11:09 am] You: can’t, going to the gym
Jungkook pulls out in the street, and then he’s driving towards his gym, turning the music on. He hums to the radio, seemingly fully at ease. You don’t know how he does it - your heart is racing in your chest at the perspective of going to the gym with him. 
[11:11 am] Nabi: the fuck [11:12 am] Nabi: who are you going with
You debate telling her the truth for the whole ride to the gym, and some more as you walk in. Jungkook hands you your sneakers as you stop in the place where you have to take your boots off, and then he offers to keep your coat and purse in a locker with his stuff. You accept, though you ask to buy a water bottle for yourself first.
“I got you covered, peach,” Jungkook says, flicking your nose. “I brought a reusable one for you.”
“How kind,” you tease, and he grins boyishly before heading into the men’s locker room. 
You wait for him outside, eyes on the conversation with Nabi. You wonder what she would say if she knew - would she tease you about the Incident? Would she freak out like you know Ria would?
You say to hell with it, and you reply to her last text with the truth before turning the screen off, looking up to watch Jungkook as he walks out of the locker room, now clad in athletic shorts and a skintight black t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination. 
“Ready?” Jungkook asks, and he hands you the water bottle he mentioned. 
It’s already full, and you take a small sip before nodding your head. “What do we start with?”
Jungkook smiles softly for a few seconds, and then his features grow conflicted. He looks away from you, his Adam’s apple bobbing once as he swallows. You’d give a lot to know what he’s thinking of right now, though life doesn’t work that way.
And would you be able to handle the truth anyway?
“We warm up with cardio, and then it’s leg day,” he tells you as he motions towards the corner with all the cardio machines. “Let’s see how much you can squat, peach.”
You snort as you follow him. “Are you just trying to get a good look at my ass?”
You’re relieved when he bites, offering you his usual cocky smirk. “So what if I am?”
“You’re disgusting,” you say, though you laugh with him as you reach the treadmills. “By the way,” you let out as you both climb on a treadmill, turning them on. “I’m hosting some friends at the apartment tonight. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh are you now?” Jungkook teases. “And you were mad at me for it yesterday?”
You glare at him, right as he helps you with increasing the speed of the treadmill. “I got it,” you say, swatting his hand away. “This is not my first time at the gym.” You pause, adjusting the walking speed and the inclination of the treadmill to your preferred setting, and then you turn to look at Jungkook again. “I wasn’t mad at you for hosting friends, I was mad because you didn’t warn me.”
“To be fair, it wasn’t planned in advance,” Jungkook reveals. “Jimin cornered me at the library while I was finishing my shift with Sera and they looked way too excited. I suggested our place because they’re always the ones hosting us.”
You’re not surprised Jungkook would offer - he’s a good friend to those he cares about. 
“Makes sense,” you let out. “So I’m telling you about tonight in advance, see?”
“It’s tonight,” he says, cocking an eyebrow.
“And?”
“I’d hardly call it in advance.”
You sigh, looking up to the ceiling. “Whatever.”
“Hope your friends don’t mind me around,” Jungkook says after a whole minute of silence.
You shoot him a surprised look. “Don’t you have plans tonight?”
“Yeah, your party.”
“It’s not a party.”
He shrugs. “I’ll be there nonetheless.”
The thought of Jungkook staying when your friends will be there makes you anxious, and you quickly shake your head no. “You can’t.”
He frowns. “Why not? It’s my apartment too.”
“I don’t…” you trail off, thinking of Ria and her obsession with him.
You know her enough to know she’d jump on the occasion to seduce Jungkook. If she knew what happened between the two of you, she wouldn’t approach him at all - but she doesn’t know.
None of them do, except Hoseok, and even then he doesn’t really know.
“I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour,” Jungkook says, winking, and then he increases the speed of his treadmill to a run that doesn’t allow a conversation at the same time.
You follow suit, just so that you can blame the hammering of your heart in your chest on something else than the fear of what is going to happen tonight. You’d hoped Jungkook had something planned - anything, really - but maybe that had been wishful thinking.
Maybe you should have told him well in advance, asking him to clear the apartment tonight. But he’s been nice, if you forget about the fact he kissed you stupid last night. You don’t have it in you to push him away when he’s acting so… nicely. 
And he keeps acting that way all through the gym. Even though you’re not nearly as strong as him, Jungkook encourages you, helps you with every exercise. You do notice him ogling your ass while you’re squatting, but you do the same to him, and he calls it even as you roll your eyes, blushing furiously. 
It’s fun. It always is – spending time with Jungkook, that is. His easy laugh and smile keep the conversation alive, alight, and you don’t notice the time fly when Jungkook guides you to the mats, where he claims you’ll do some planks and then stretch.
You plop down on the mat, legs feeling like jelly, and Jungkook’s giggle fills your ear, warming your chest. You glance at him, catching him as he smiles down at you.
“We went easy,” he teases, sitting next to you. “You’re adorable.”
“You call that easy?” you let out in fake outrage. “I won’t be able to walk for a week.”
“Oh, won’t you now?” 
You roll your eyes at the innuendo in his voice. “Shut up.”
He grins, patting his pockets. As a frown moves on his features, you push yourself up, sitting.
“Is there something wrong?” you ask.
“I think I left my phone at the squat rack,” Jungkook answers. “Wait here, I’ll go see if it’s still there.”
You don’t have time to say anything before he’s jogging away, and you follow him with your gaze as he makes his way to the squat rack you used earlier. He doesn’t find his phone there – he shoots a look in your direction, and then he’s heading to the reception, to likely ask if someone brought his phone there.
You sigh before grabbing your own phone. You’re about to turn it back on when someone clears their throat, and you look up, eyes slightly widened in surprise.
“Hey,” a buff guy says. “You’re with JK?”
It takes you an awkward four seconds before you reply, “Yeah?”
The guy smiles, nodding once. “Thought so. I just wanted to warn you, that guy is a dick.”
“Excuse me?”
You can’t help it – the offence that takes over you at someone insulting Jungkook burns like acid in your mouth, and you frown as you look up at the buff guy. He raises his hands in defence, but you just keep on staring him down.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you.” The guy’s hands fall at his side, clenching into fists once before he releases it. “We used to be friends, until my ex cheated on me with him,” he offers as an explanation. “I’d hate to see him hurt someone else.”
Though you do feel bad for the guy, you’re still offended – does he believe Jungkook is out to hurt you?
Is Jungkook out to hurt you?
“Listen, don’t worry about me,” you eventually say, not wanting to fight with someone that looks like they could kill you with one well-placed punch. “We’re just friends.”
The guy’s features relax, and his smile feels more genuine now. “Good, I’m glad.” He doesn’t move for a few seconds, and then he catches sight of Jungkook jogging back towards you. You meet Jungkook’s gaze at the same time as the guy says, “I’ll leave you two to it, then.”
You don’t say anything, and Jungkook stops next to you, barely winded from jogging around. He drops on the mat next to you, phone in hand.
“What did Colton want with you?” he asks.
You shrug your shoulders. “Nothing, really. He was just wondering if we were together.”
“Together?” Jungkook repeats, teasing tone in employ.
You cock an eyebrow. “Not like that, dumbass.”
He pouts, though he doesn’t say anything else. And when you look at him like this, you can’t believe he’d cheat on one of his friends. He’s always seemed like a good friend – hell, an hour ago you’d thought him to be a good friend to those he cares about. Which means he probably never cared about the guy – Colton.
But isn’t there something ugly in the act of cheating with someone that’s in a relationship? 
“So we’re doing three minutes of planks,” Jungkook tells you. 
“Three?!” you shriek.
He chuckles. “One minute of regular plank, and then one minute on each side.”
“Bruh.”
“You can do it, peach.”
He gets into position, and you reluctantly imitate him, mind still swirling with what he’s done. At the beginning of the semester, you wouldn’t have been surprised by that fact, yet now it feels odd, strange, even a little disturbing. As if for a moment you forgot how much of an arrogant asshole Jungkook can be, as if you forgot the reputation that follows him.
You wouldn’t be surprised if he’s broken up other couples than this Colton and his ex.
If Jungkook notices your unease, he doesn’t mention it. He does his planks like a champ, while you’re shaking for your life next to him, and then he shows you his stretching routine. You copy everything, and then you follow him back to the man’s locker room, waiting outside for him to change back into his clothes. 
Colton goes into the locker room before Jungkook comes out, and he nods to you as he passes in front of you. You offer him a tight-lipped smile, and then watch him disappear at the bend in the hall. Jungkook gets out a couple of minutes later, as you’re turning on your phone again.
At the sight of the frown on his features, and the light red tint on his cheeks, you can only assume that he and Colton had a talk.
“Something wrong?” you ask him.
“No.” His answer is curt, almost cold, and you widen your gaze slightly as he hands you your stuff.
He barely waits for you to put your coat on before he’s walking to where you can grab your boots, and you awkwardly jog behind him, thighs burning, almost afraid he’s going to leave without you.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” you insist as you kick off your shoes, putting your boots on.
“Honestly peach,” Jungkook says. “Just drop it.”
It’s your turn to frown. “Did Colton speak to you?”
His silence is answer enough.
“Fuck that dude, Jungkook,” you try to reassure him, but it doesn’t look like it works.
Maybe because you’ve changed since Colton spoke to you, thoughts of Jungkook being a cheater haunting you.
“Just put your boots on,” Jungkook dismisses you, and anger starts welling in your chest.
You don’t say anything until you’re out of the gym, Jungkook’s car just a couple of meters away.
“You don’t have to act like a dick with me, you know?” you tell him.
Jungkook spins around to face you, and you almost bump into him. You catch yourself at the last second, and you look up to meet Jungkook’s dark gaze. Even in the light of the day, shadows are hiding behind his pupils. It makes him look raw – like he’s been chased by demons of his own, thoughts haunting him in ways you can’t understand.
“I’m not being a dick with you, peach,” he drawls. “We’re just friends, and I don’t feel like talking.”
Oh.
“Are you upset because I told him that we’re just friends?”
“I’m upset because that fucker told you stuff I’d rather you not know,” Jungkook answers, voice slowly rising as he fails to put his anger in check.
You furrow your brows. “Everyone knows your reputation, Jungkook.”
He recoils. He physically recoils, taking a step back as if you’ve just punched him in the face. You feel bad – you feel infinitely bad, as his gaze grows pained for a few seconds before the anger hides it away again.
“Right.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Why do you want to be my friend, then?”
“Because people are going to say shit,” you answer, shrugging your shoulders. “Everyone makes mistakes.”
He laughs, but it’s so cold, devoid of any warmth he’s offered to you recently. “Before you start believing some shit, I was fucking the girl before Colton got in a relationship with her. I told him she wasn’t trustworthy, and we fucked at a party again after she told me she dumped him.”
“You don’t need to tell me this.”
“Oh, but I do.” Jungkook chuckles bitterly. “Colton’s always been jealous of me, and when I told him what happened he just got mad, and refused to listen to me.”
You get why – whoever that girl was, Colton probably had feelings for her. And it sucks to see someone you like getting it on with one of your friends.
Jungkook’s gaze moves from yours to the door of the gym, and you look behind you to see Colton walking out. He notices the two of you, and you think you see him rolling his eyes in the distance.
“Let’s go home,” you tell Jungkook, walking around him to reach his car. 
Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, but then he does, unlocking the doors as he makes his way to the driver’s side. You get in, and the engine purrs to life as Jungkook turns the key in the ignition.
There are a few seconds of silence as he adjusts the warmth, and then he looks at you.
“I wouldn’t have slept with her if they were still together,” he says.
His big eyes hold so much innocence that you immediately believe him. You don’t know if you should, if you’ve just been ensnared, the prey to the spider, but you’re in too deep him.
You’re already in too fucking deep.
“I know, Jungkook,” you reassure him. “Don’t let this dude get to your head.”
You see his Adam’s apple bobbing once, and then he nods and faces forward, getting ready to drive. You can’t divert your gaze from his profile, and you find yourself gulping.
You really are in too deep.
*****
Turns out that letting Jungkook stay for your get-together was a good idea. Indeed, he’s cooked noodles for everyone, and your friends have been eating, praising Jungkook for his skills. He only shrugged his shoulders, as if to say it’s nothing, but you know he likes the praise.
It shows in the way his eyes swim with stars, so far from the shadows that invaded his gaze earlier at the gym. 
And you’ve been trying not to think about it too much. Not to think that whenever Ria looks in his direction, you feel something ugly twisting in your chest. So far, Jungkook hasn’t given her any attention, but you know her – she doesn’t stop until she gets what she wants.
Tonight, what she wants is Jeon Jungkook. 
You’re not the only one who’s been monitoring the two – Seokjin, with his quiet and calm presence, has been looking at your friend ever since everyone got to your apartment. You think you see his disappointment as Ria barely speaks to him, though you don’t know him well enough to tell.
Jungkook turns out to be a good barman as well. He takes everyone’s order when you finish eating, and then he heads to the kitchen to make every drink. Ria follows him, and you clench your jaw, though Hoseok immediately follows as well, offering you a wink.
You’re lucky you have him. Otherwise, tonight would surely go to shit real quick.
“Didn’t know your roommate was so chill,” Yoongi says from where he’s sitting on the couch. 
You’re currently sitting on the floor next to Nabi, with Namjoon on the other side of her. They’ve been conversing just them two for a while, but Yoongi’s statement attracts their attention.
“I mean, with the reputation that he has…” Namjoon trails off.
You cock an eyebrow, indignant. “What’s wrong with his reputation?”
Nabi turns to you, eyes going wide, while Seokjin’s lips spread into a small smile. Yoongi snorts, though you keep the eyebrow cocked, meeting Namjoon’s gaze.
“I mean, isn’t he the guy that’s fucked most of the campus?” Namjoon asks, sounding far too innocent.
“What’s wrong with it?” you challenge. “Wouldn’t you fuck the whole campus if you could?”
Namjoon looks scared now. His gaze falls to Nabi, who shrugs and meets your eyes again. “Why are you so pressed?” she asks, though her lips spread into a smile. “Is it because of the Incident?”
You roll your eyes, though a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “It’s not.”
“The Incident?” Yoongi chimes in.
You send a warning glare towards Nabi, before saying, “Nothing.”
“What’s nothing?” Jungkook’s familiar voice says as he walks back from the kitchen.
He’s holding two gin and tonics, and he offers the first one to you, before handing the other to Seokjin. Everyone stays suspiciously silent as Jungkook walks back to where you’re sitting, before plopping down on the floor next to you.
Nabi loses it. She bursts out laughing, and your cheeks burn as you punch her in the shoulder.
“Ow!” she shrieks.
Hoseok and Ria walk out of the kitchen then. Hoseok has two beers – one for himself and one for Namjoon – while Ria carries a cranberry vodka for herself and a whiskey on ice for Yoongi. You see the slight frown on her face as she notices Jungkook next to you. It’s only there for a fraction of a second, and then her gaze slides to you, an eyebrow cocking.
When a small, knowing smirk grows on her lips, you feel like disappearing through the floor.
After that, conversations start around you once more, as Ria sits on the couch between Yoongi and Seokjin, and Hoseok sits in front of you, on the other side of the coffee table. Jungkook leans closer to you, trying to catch your gaze, and you turn your head towards him.
“What?” you ask.
“Do you like your drink?”
He’s cute like this. Big eyes awaiting your answer as if it’s the most important thing he’ll hear all night, tongue toying with his piercings anxiously. The glint in his eyes resembles a star, and for a moment you bask in its glow.
Until you snap back to reality when he slowly frowns.
“Is it bad?” he asks.
“No!” you quickly say. “Not at all. I like it.” You make a show of taking a big sip, and though it’s stronger than your usual, you still offer him a small nod. “See, it’s delicious.”
His lips curve upwards. “Good.”
You smile softly, your eyes falling to his empty hands in his lap. The tattoos on the back of his right hand are stark on his skin, and your eyes slowly trail up his arm up to where the ink disappears in the sleeve of his oversized white t-shirt. He’s smirking by the time you meet his gaze again, and you gulp, eyes falling to your drink as if searching for a safe haven.
“You’re not drinking?” you ask.
“Never two nights in a row,” he replies.
You don’t buy his act at all, as you’ve seen him drinking more than two days in a row a lot of times already.
“Bullshit,” you call him out.
He narrows his gaze. “What do you mean, bullshit?”
“You drink all the time,” you state.
Though as you say it you remember the parties when you’ve seen him as the designated driver. It makes you furrow your brows, right as he says, “I’ve been trying to drink less. Besides, I work tomorrow.”
“Oh,” you let out.
He’s about to say something else when Hoseok, beaming with mischief, says, “Should we play Truth or Dare?”
A chorus of yes and nos answers, until Nabi says. “We should just play Spin the Bottle. Truth or Dare is for kids.”
“Hey, Truth or Dare is fun,” Hoseok says, pouting, his eyebrows almost touching over his eyes.
Nabi winks at him, especially as her suggestion ends up winning, and Yoongi and Hoseok clear the coffee table and move it to the side so that you can all sit in a big circle on the floor.
“Younger should spin first!” Ria suggests, knowing fully well that she is the youngest. 
You all agree, and she reaches for Namjoon’s empty beer bottle that was put on the floor between you all. She grabs it by the body, then looks at everyone, gaze shining with amusement. 
“Who wants to kiss me?” she teases.
You wonder if you’re the only one who notices Seokjin’s cheek turning pink as Nabi bursts, “Me!”
As everyone laughs, and Seokjin catches up with a small chuckle, Ria finally spins the bottle. You watch as it spins once, twice, thrice, slowing down on the fourth spin until it fully comes to a stop, facing Hoseok. 
“Well, I guess it’ll be you, Hoba,” Ria says, shrugging her shoulders, and then she kneels so that she can reach Hoseok across the circle.
He grabs her by the cheeks, and he lands a big peck on her slightly parted lips. Both of them didn’t close their eyes for the kiss, and they start laughing awkwardly as Ria sits back.
Yoongi’s cool smile tells you everything you need to know, and you hold in the knowing smirk that wants to split across your features.
Hoseok spins the bottle, and it turns for longer than it did with Ria. It stops on Seokjin, who lets out a startled sound as Hoseok turns towards him, grabbing his cheeks.
“Come here, Jinnie!” Hoseok exclaims.
Seokjin lets out a disgruntled sound, which quickly turns disgusted as Hoseok kisses him, with a lot more lips than he did with Ria. It earns a lot of laughs, especially as Seokjin repeatedly wipes his mouth, using the sleeve of his shirt as a napkin.
“Why was that so wet?” he complains, but ever so the good player, he still spins the bottle.
It turns and turns, a never-ending dance until friction finally slows it down.
You purse your lips when it lands on you, and you look up to meet Seokjin’s gaze. 
“Well, well, well,” you let out.
“I’d much rather kiss you than him,” Seokjin grumbles as he leans across the space.
“What do you mean, he’s a good kisser,” you tease, and Hoseok beams as Ria and Nabi let out a prolonged “Ew!” at the reference to the fact that you and Hoseok used to sleep together.
Though they don’t know that you’ve stopped, and that Hoseok is dating Yoongi now. Not that you’ll be the one to tell them.
You lean forward, meeting Seokjin in the space over the bottle. Right before your lips press on his plump ones, you turn towards Ria. To your surprise, she isn’t looking at you – her eyes are on Jungkook, and the knowing smile from earlier comes back in full force.
It’s too late for you to look behind you, and your eyes flutter shut as Seokjin’s lips find yours. They are soft, warm, and his kiss is gentle, as if he doesn’t want to scare you away. If it wasn’t for the fact that Jungkook is here, you think you’d indulge, but you immediately pull away, sitting back next to your brother’s best friend.
Next to the man with whom you’ve been pretending you haven’t fucked like animals just a few weeks ago.
Unable to resist, you glance at him. He is frowning, though he quickly hides behind an easy smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and for a moment you want to scream at him that he’s stupid, that he shouldn’t care, that you need to pretend… but you resist.
Not because you’re surrounded by your friends, no. Because you want him to want you – you want to be the moon he chases at night, and you don’t know what to make of it.
You look away from him, reaching in the middle of the circle to the glass bottle awaiting your spin. Seokjin nods encouragingly, and you spin the bottle…
Only to have it end on Seokjin again.
“Bruh,” Nabi lets out. “I want to kiss people too.”
This time, you don’t miss the muscle ticking in Ria’s eyebrows. So you offer her a wink as you lean towards Seokjin, who meets you with a smile on his lips.
You make to pull away again, but Seokjin grabs your cheeks, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss. Your body immediately reacts – heart racing in your chest, blood pumping in your ears. Your friends cheer as Seokjin’s tongue teases your bottom lip, and then he lets you go, sitting back in his spot while you stay still for a few seconds, eyes fluttering open to meet his.
He’s not looking at you. Instead, his eyes are on Ria, who’s looking down at her drink.
So he’s trying to make her jealous… You slowly nod your head, before sitting back in your spot. Jungkook shifts next to you, and his knee brushes against the side of your thigh.
You shoot him a look, and he offers you a tight-lipped smile, before settling his attention on Seokjin as he spins the bottle again. This time, it lands on Yoongi, and they exchange a small peck, though Seokjin fake-gags through it all. 
“What’s wrong with kissing the homies?” Hoseok teases him, elbowing him in the ribs.
“Nothing,” Seokjin grumbles. “I love you guys, but I’d rather not kiss my friends.”
“You seemed to like kissing Y/n, though,” Ria says, an innocent look on her face that you know she’s faking.
You snort, hiding it behind a long sip of your drink, as everyone watches Seokjin as he looks at Ria, gaze wide, trying to find something to say but clearly coming up short with ideas. 
Silence stretches, growing awkward, until Seokjin says, “I’d kiss you like that too.”
Both Nabi and Hoseok let out a long “Oh!” though Nabi immediately follows hers with, “Then kiss her.”
Seokjin flushes fully red, and Ria grins, cocking her head to the side. 
“I’m game unless you’re too shy,” she says, voice a little sultry.
Seokjin seems afraid now. He looks around the group, as if searching for salvation, but everyone is just looking on with expectation lighting up their gazes.
“Well…” Seokjin lets out, and he gulps. “Hopefully we’ll spin the bottle on each other.”
“Come on, bro,” Jungkook interjects. “Don’t tell me you need that to kiss her?”
Before Seokjin has time to say anything else, Ria grabs his face from where she’s sitting next to him, and she pulls him into a languid kiss that, despite his shy demeanour, he reciprocates right away. People cheer, and you smile widely, your eyes turning to Jungkook amidst the chaos ensuing. 
He’s already looking at you. His eyes dip down to your lips as if he’s considering kissing you right then and there as well, but he glances away, sucking on his piercings. Though the interaction might have passed as nothing to an outside gaze, you feel your blood boiling in your veins, far more than when Seokjin kissed you earlier.
Because no one other than Jungkook can have that effect on you.
When Ria and Seokjin finally pull away, Yoongi hesitantly reaches for the bottle, making a joke that everyone laughs at except you, as you’re still reeling from the way Jungkook looked at you. The bottle spins, and it stops on Nabi, who beams.
“Finally,” she jokes.
The peck she exchanges with Yoongi is cold, that of two friends more than anything, and then Nabi is spinning the bottle as well.
You don’t miss the way her gaze slides sideways to Namjoon. You also don’t miss the way Namjoon slightly leans into her – what you do miss is the bottle as it stops.
Pointing towards Jungkook.
“Oh,” Nabi lets out, and she turns red.
Jungkook, suddenly the picture-perfect arrogant asshole that you know him to be, says, “Don’t sound too disappointed, I’ve been told I’m a good kisser.”
Nabi chuckles awkwardly, and she meets Namjoon’s gaze. He motions towards Jungkook with his beer, as if to encourage her, and she nods once before leaning towards Jungkook.
They kiss right in front of you, and you feel the blood leaving your face as Jungkook has the nerve to tease her mouth with his tongue. As she has the nerve to let him in, their tongues meeting for a few seconds before Jungkook pulls away. He winks at her, smiling triumphantly, and she sits back, face so red she’d put a tomato to shame.
Jungkook slides his gaze to you, winking at you next, before leaning towards you. And though he has to be aware that everyone is carefully watching you, he says in your ear, “Had to make you jealous too.”
Yep. The arrogant asshole.
You push him, rolling your eyes. “Fuck off,” you grumble, and you meet Ria’s gaze as she looks at you way too excitedly for your own sake.
He laughs it off, sitting back in his spot, and then he grabs the bottle spinning it. Whether he meant it or not, it spins twice before stopping, and you stare down the neck of the bottle as it points towards you.
You think Ria is about to leap up, screaming, ‘I knew it!’ Especially as you just keep on staring at the neck of the bottle, refusing to turn your face towards Jungkook. You see his smirk in the periphery of your vision. See the way he wets his lips, far too ready to kiss you dumb like only he knows how to do.
“What are you waiting for?” Nabi asks from beside you, nudging you with an elbow.
You take a deep breath, chuckling. “Let’s pray Taehyung never learns about this,” you say, referencing everything that your friends don’t know, and then you turn towards Jungkook.
Your comment has made him pensive. He’s lost the smirk, and his eyes scan your face, lingering on your lips for far longer than necessary. It makes you blush, makes you feel vulnerable and naked, and you try to find a spark of defiance in you.
All you find is his gravity, and you lean towards him.
He meets you halfway – with none of the fire he had for your friend. Instead, his soft, pink lips move against yours, slowly, and your eyes flutter shut as you instinctively cup his cheek. It feels like time stretches, endlessly. Your mouths dance together, like suddenly eternity found you in its hold. 
When Jungkook’s tongue teases your bottom lip, you let him in, circling it with your own tongue. You hear the cheers now – they’re distant, like they are on the other side of a veil, in an entirely different universe. You ignore them, focusing on the man next to you, kissing you.
You feel Jungkook’s hand as it finds your thigh. He holds you, thumb digging slightly into your skin, and memories of your bodies entwined flash behind your eyelids. So much so that you sigh in the kiss, rhythm suddenly accelerating. It grows frantic, though still just as languid. For a moment, you’d wish for your friends to disappear, to leave you alone with Jungkook but…
“Damn, get a room!” Ria yells, then bursts out laughing with the rest of the friend group. 
You startle, pulling away from Jungkook. Your gazes meet, both wide as if scared, as if you just crossed a line. Though you reckon you’ve crossed the line a while ago already.
You can’t focus on the game after that. You spin and kiss Ria, who then kisses Yoongi. You lose track after that, and thankfully the bottle doesn’t point towards you or Jungkook again. All you can do as your friends exchange kisses and saliva is try to tame your wild heart, but it’s started a race you are bound to lose – a race to the man by your side.
You wonder how Jungkook is feeling. If he, too, feels deeply affected by that kiss. If it rendered his mind a blank canvas like yours, erasing thoughts and memories, leaving just him, him, him.
You’re going insane. You’re going insane for someone you can’t have, for someone who you told to never kiss you again, not even twenty-four hours ago. But his lips and his tongue are drugs you’re starting to like too much – they are an addiction waiting to ensnare you in its web.
You only come back to your senses when, bored, your friends decide to stop the game in favour of watching some dumb movie and making a drinking game out of it. You participate in the drinking game, hoping that it will numb the beating of your heart, but it does little to no good.
Perhaps because Jungkook sits next to you, and you’re all too aware of every spot where your bodies touch. And you wonder – in a universe where he isn’t your brother’s best friend, would you be leaning in his side? Would you let yourself be ensnared, even though his reputation follows him like smoke follows the fire?
You think about what Colton said. You think about Shelly, and about all the other girls Jungkook has had under him. It finally douses the beating of your heart, fire returning to a slumbering ocean, and you feel like you can breathe for the first time since the bottle landed on you and he kissed you.
The second movie the group decided to watch after that drinking game is almost over. Ria fell asleep with her head on Seokjin’s shoulder, who sits with a straight-back, his cheeks turning pink when you notice their position. Hoseok and Yoongi sit next to each other on the couch – pinkies subtly linked, which brings a soft smile to your lips. Jungkook is next to you, though his deep breathing and soft snores tell you enough about what state he currently is in.
You don’t know how you missed it. But Namjoon and Nabi aren’t in the living room anymore. You wonder where they went off to, and the answer comes by itself as they walk back in, clothes wrinkled and hair undone, both of them sporting small, satisfied smiles.
You can’t resist. You pull your phone out, heading to the group chat you have with Ria and Nabi.
[2:43 am] You: I hope you guys didn’t fuck in my bed
You snort to yourself before turning off your phone, and the movie comes to an end a few minutes later, rousing those that had fallen asleep. Jungkook offers you a sleepy smile, and your heart skips a beat. So you look away, think about Colton and Shelly, and the emotion passes.
“I guess we should be going,” Hoseok says as everyone stretches.
Everyone agrees with that statement, and you walk your friends to the door. You make round eyes at Nabi, motioning towards Namjoon, and the shade of red she turns to is enough to let you know that she and Namjoon really did it. You stifle your laugh as you hug her, and then Ria comes to you, resting her head on your shoulder.
“I’m so tired,” she whines. ���Can I sleep over?”
You don’t know why. But your eyes go to Jungkook, who’s watching the interaction unfold from where he’s leaning against the wall. Your throat goes dry, and you look away from him, telling your friend, “Nabi will get you home.”
Nabi nods, “Come, baby. Your bed awaits you.”
Ria grumbles, but she follows Nabi, and slowly everyone filters out of your apartment.
Everyone but you and the guy you’re starting to think you should maybe avoid.
“So,” Jungkook lets out, and he laughs lightly. “Tonight was fun. I didn’t know your friends were so chill.”
You lean against the door. The cold from outside lingers, but the way Jungkook is looking at you is warm, hot.
“They are,” you reply.
“I should hang with you guys more often.”
You gulp as he tilts his head to the side, toying with his piercings. “What would Taehyung say?” you ask.
“Who cares what Taehyung says? I’m allowed to have other friends.”
“Right.”
Jungkook’s tongue pokes at his cheek and then he sighs. “Are you upset about the kiss?”
You shake your head no, shrugging your shoulders. “It was just for the game.” 
Though, was it really just for the game?
“Right,” he echoes. He changes tactics, chuckling lightly. “Your friend Ria wants me. She told me while we were in the kitchen.”
“I think you lost your spot to Jin,” you quickly reply, and he doesn’t miss the undertone of jealousy in your voice.
“You didn’t look like you liked me kissing Nabi.”
“You didn’t look like you liked me kissing Jin.”
He wets his lips. “Oh, peach. I loved watching you kiss him, looking all guilty after.” Another chuckle. “You think you can fool me?”
“You’re an asshole.” You don’t mean the insult. Or maybe you do. Maybe some part of you thinks about Taehyung, about what Colton has said. Because you want him to be an asshole – a red flag, so easily avoidable. You want him to be easily pushed away, like the emotions you thought you pushed away earlier.
Though maybe you’ve just been fooling yourself.
You don’t want Jungkook taking a step towards you, stopping where he’s now standing a couple of steps in front of you. You don’t want the conflict unfolding in his big, doe eyes. You don’t want any of it. You just want peace, you want to protect a heart that’s barely healed from Sam Hwang’s passage in your life. 
You want peace so much that you walk closer to him as well, stopping close enough that you have to tilt your head back to look up at him.
“I’m an asshole?” Jungkook repeats, making it sound like a question.
You nod. “Yeah. Because we shouldn’t kiss again. Because you said that it meant nothing, that we have to pretend nothing happened.”
He’s so still in front of you you’d imagine he was turned to stone.
But yes, here’s why your heart has been going crazy. You’re trying to blame it on Colton, on Taehyung and on everybody else. But the fault has always been Jungkook’s. The fault was the way he made you feel, and how just a day later he decided that it wasn’t enough, that it wasn’t what he wanted. Though maybe that was you, and your constant fear of Taehyung learning about you and Jungkook despite the ocean between you.
“But it meant nothing, right?” Jungkook challenges, dark eyes searching for the truth in yours. “Is that why I haven’t been able to fuck anyone else since then?”
Your mind empties out.
“Jungkook…”
“Is that why I kind of want to just say fuck it and tell your brother?” His hand reaches between you, and he runs a hesitant finger on your jawline. “Is that why we’re oh so pretending that nothing happened when you’re the only thing I look at when we’re in the same room?”
“You wanted this,” you remind him.
“You wanted Taehyung to never know, peach,” he counters. “I’ve been wanting you since the first time I saw you.”
You don’t know what to make of this revelation. You don’t even know if you believe him, or if Jungkook is just too good at spinning words into beautiful lies countless hearts have wanted to believe in, only to end up broken. 
You do want to believe him. You do want to believe that every time he’s called you peach, he meant something more. That that first kiss in the kitchen, during a power outage that’s brought you far too close for comfort, meant something to him the way that it meant something to you as well.
“Then why the fuck do I still see you flirting left and right?” you ask.
His jaw clenches. “This is about what Colton said, isn’t it?”
It is, and it isn’t. “Jungkook, I saw you at that bar. I saw you tonight with Ria. It is what you are.”
“What I am?” he repeats, chuckling bitterly. “Is your opinion really so low of me, peach?” He leans towards you, and you tilt your head to the side, letting him run his soft lips up the side of your neck. 
Your breath hitches in your throat. “I’ve heard you fucking girls in this apartment.”
“And I’ve heard you touching yourself at the same time,” Jungkook whispers right in the shell of your ear. “I’ve heard you and that Hobi dude too.”
His hand finds your waist, and he holds you in place as you say, “I think we never should have fucked.”
He leans his forehead against yours. “Why?”
You offer him the truth, in all its vulnerability. 
“Because there is no going back now.”
He laughs, yet it sounds void of joy. “And is that a bad thing?”
“You will just hurt me.”
“Not planning on it.”
You wonder if his heart is beating just as loudly as yours, or if this is just an act to him. It’s hard to tell, and your soul vibrates on a frequency you can’t ignore anymore. It takes everything in you and builds you anew, destroys all the restraints you’ve been trying to have in order to protect yourself.
The spider caught you in its web, and you have no escaping now.
“You can’t say that,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as he finds the other side of your waist, and he pulls you closer.
“Why do you want to believe the worst of me so bad?”
Because you’ve never given me a reason to believe otherwise, you want to reply, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. Not when his thumbs are tracing idle shapes on your waist, speaking in a language you think your body already knows.
“Because it’s the only way that I don’t end up getting hurt,” you whisper in a voice smaller than the atoms holding you together. “When you believe the worst of people, they never disappoint you.”
Jungkook moves one of his hands to your back, and then it glides up until he’s lost it in the hair at the back of your head. “But if you don’t risk anything, you don’t get anything,” he says.
He’s right, and you almost purr as he gently massages your scalp. “I risked once, and it wasn’t worth it.”
“That asshole didn’t know how to handle you, peach,” Jungkook affirms, softly. “And trust me when I say this – he will regret it later.”
Sam Hwang comes to the forefront of your mind. You remember the summer, remember the easy smiles and the dancing and the driving with the windows down. You remember it all, and then you remember the date yesterday, and the way the dream he’d once been had curdled like milk left outside of the refrigerator for too long. 
Sam was poison shaped like the prettiest flower. His lies were your undoing – has Jungkook ever lied to you?
You don’t think he has. He’s always been crudely honest, playful in his arrogance. But he’s never once lied to you, or at least you want to believe so.
“And do you know?” you ask, murmuring the words so close to his lips you feel them move when his mouth slightly falls open.
Time stops, the whole entire world holding its breath. Your arms are around his neck now – you don’t remember moving at all – and you tighten your hold, just a little bit. As if you think he’ll walk away now, flick your nose and tell you that this is all just a joke.
That he’s played your heart better than anyone before, and that you can laugh about it now.
“Let me show you,” he answers instead, and you think you hear thunder in the distance.
Or maybe that’s your heart, as Jungkook ravishes your lips in a languid kiss that makes you melt into his touch. His large hand finds the small of your back, pushing you into his strong body. You mold yourself to him, arch your back as his feathery soft lips move against yours, his piercings pushing into your lower lips.
He tastes like addiction, like you’ll never be able to kiss someone else. And right now, you don’t think you’ll ever want to. Because you’ve never been kissed the way that Jungkook kisses you. Like he’s branding himself on you, burning his name in your heart so that his flames will keep you warm, always.
He turns you around, pushing you into the wall. A second later he makes you jump so that he can wrap your legs against his waist, and though his lips have momentarily disconnected from yours, he’s quick to kiss you again, to push his tongue in your mouth. You suck on it, and he retaliates by grinding into you.
He’s already hard. He’s already fucking hard and you’ll go insane.
“Jungkook,” you breathe the second he pulls away from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck. He stops at the neckline of your shirt, lips ghosting as he moves back up.
“Do you know how mad you made me when you said you wanted to keep things between us?” he whispers, and he teases your earlobe with his teeth. “When you said that Taehyung doesn’t need to know everything?”
Your head is too clouded with thoughts of him, of what you know is about to happen, so you barely remember. You thought he was the one who wanted to pretend like nothing happened, but then again, he did say that that was you.
You’re confused, and you don’t have time to revisit the past before he sucks on the skin of your neck, hard enough to leave a hickey behind. You run your hands through his hair, and pull at the longer strands on top until his mouth finds yours again.
“I’ll tell him,” Jungkook adds when he pulls away from the kiss. “I don’t care what he says, I’ve been wanting you so bad.”
“Kook…” you trail off, and he grinds into you, before pulling away from the wall to carry you towards his room.
“I’m serious,” he says in your ear, and he does sound more serious than he’s ever been with you. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
You nuzzle your face in his neck, peck the mole you find there. “Can we just figure shit out between us before we tell him?”
You think you feel Jungkook stiffen, but it might just be because one of his hands let go of you so that he can open the door to his room.
“Sure,” Jungkook whispers. “Just let me know when I should speak to him and I will.”
You appreciate it, but you reckon you should be the one to break the news to your brother. You have a lot more chance to be able to handle the tantrum he’ll likely throw, but you don’t want to think about that right now.
You just want to think about Jungkook, about the way he’s gently putting you down on the edge of his bed, amidst the mess of blankets.
And then he’s taking off his shirt, throwing it to the side, and your mind eddies out.
He’s beautiful. You’ve known this, you’ve seen him before, but there’s something about him that’s different right now. Maybe it’s the neon light coming from the street outside. Or maybe it’s just because the fear that’s been plaguing you finally disappeared, and the relief of knowing he wants you too overpowers everything, painting him with all the beauty he beholds.
And he beholds far too much for your frail heart to endure. Yet you still gaze at him, admire all the strong planes of his body as he fishes his cell phone from the pocket of his pants to turn on the LED lights in his room. They shine red, and he winks at you before strutting to the window so that he can pull the curtains shut.
“Red lights?” you tease.
“It’s to set the ambiance,” he says confidently as he walks back towards you.
“You’re an idiot.” It’s said affectionately, with a twinkle in your eyes that you know he doesn’t miss. Because he grins, that bunny grin that does funny things to your insides, and then he stops in front of you.
He drops on his knees, his hands spreading your legs. You widen your gaze, but he’s already bending down, pressing a kiss to your clothed pussy.
“You’ll come on my tongue, mmh?”
Cheeks burning, all you can do is nod your head.
“Good girl.”
Jungkook makes quick work of getting you out of your pants, but he leaves your underwear on. He watches the wet spot where you’ve already soaked through, smirk curving the corner of his lips.
“Gosh, look at you,” he says. “You’re already so ready.”
He pushes your thong to the side so that he can see your glistening pussy. You know you’re wet – you feel your juices dripping out of you, and it only increases when Jungkook leans in, turning his head at the last second to kiss the inside of your thigh instead.
“What do you want?” he asks.
“Huh?” is all you’re able to let out.
He laughs, and he grins up at you. “You’re adorable.” He kisses your thigh again, and then his lips ghost on your clit. You try to move your thighs, but he’s firmly holding you against the bed, refraining any motion from you. “What do you want?” he repeats.
This time, you were ready for the question. “Your mouth,” you breathe out.
He hums, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes. “Where?”
“Eat me out,” you say.
“That’s what you want?”
You nod.
“Then that’s what you’ll get.”
And then his lips close around your clit and he sucks hard, tongue flicking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You immediately grip at his hair, moaning softly, your eyes shutting as he moves from your clit to your entrance. His tongue pushes in, laps your juices, and all you can do is pull at his hair, as if that will keep you grounded.
As if you’re not already floating towards the ceiling.
“Fuck, Jungkook,” you curse.
“You like that?” he queries against your pussy, the movement of his lips making you shiver.
“Yes.”
He sucks on your clit again, eyes shutting in concentration as he switches to drawing circles around it, sending bolts of lightning up your spine. You moan, and you feel him smirk against you as he keeps going. As one of his hands hesitantly leaves your thigh to slide between your legs. 
He teases your entrance with a finger, circling it in time with his ministrations on your clit. The breathy sound you let out is interrupted by a louder moan as his finger slips inside, immediately curving to find the right spot inside of you.
Jungkook shifts, pushing your leg on his shoulder so that he can reach around your frame, his hand resting on your belly. He pushes just enough for you to know that he wants you to lie down, and then he holds you there, the new angle making you see stars.
“How can you-“ It breaks into a moan. “Be so good?” you conclude.
Jungkook laughs, pulling away to meet your gaze. “I’ve seen how you touch yourself,” he reminds you. “I’m just trying to reproduce what you did.”
Which makes no sense because he barely saw anything, but you’re too blissed out to question him. You just take the pleasure in, feeling it rise like the crescendo of a song. 
You’ll come. It only grows more evident when Jungkook pushes a second finger in, and he fucks you like that, relentlessly. His tongue on your clit draws expert figures, and he mixes it with just enough sucking for you to not fall into oversensitive land. No, he keeps you at the edge, pushing you towards your orgasm so quickly you think you’ll explode.
And you do. The second you climax you let out a broken moan, your thighs closing around his face. That doesn’t deter him, and he milks your orgasm out of you, letting you crash into walls and walls of it, until you feel like you’re not even in your body anymore.
Only then does Jungkook sit back on his heels, your juice dripping from his chin. He doesn’t dry it yet – instead he climbs on top of you, pressing a wet kiss to your lips that tastes of you. And the kiss is savage, wild, with his tongue in your mouth and your hands pulling at his hair.
He grunts, pulling away from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses on your neck as your hands move to his back, where you leave scratches behind.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Do that when I’m fucking you and you’ll make me come in no time.”
“Then take off your clothes,” you say through the haze. “I want you to fuck me.”
He obeys, standing up to take off his pants and boxers. His dick springs free, proud and tall, precum on the tip that looks far too inviting. So you sit up, hand grabbing the base of his cock, and Jungkook stills as you take him in your mouth, looking up at him.
His precum tastes salty on your tongue, and you lick him all clean before pulling away, jerking him off slowly. 
“Sorry,” you apologize. “I couldn’t help myself.”
He grabs your cheeks, bending down so that he can steal another languid kiss on your lips.
“Don’t apologize, peach,” he says as he straightens. “I’ve wanted to know what your mouth feels like on my dick for a really long time.”
So you dive in, wrapping your lips around his dick to suck on his tip. He bucks his hips, pushing deeper, and you hold the gag reflex in as he hits the back of your throat, immediately pulling out.
“Sorry.”
“For what?” you ask, and the line of drool that connected his dick to your mouth breaks.
“I didn’t mean to fuck your mouth,” he explains.
“What if I want you to?”
He just looks down at you with so much lust in his eyes that you think you’ll drown in it. To your dismay, he says, “Not tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll come before I can fuck your tight pussy if I fuck your mouth right now.”
Yet he doesn’t move right away, so you keep jerking him off, licking at his slit. “Do you always come so easily when you fuck girls?”
He doesn’t like what you say. Indeed, he pulls on your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back as he bends down. 
“Open your mouth,” he orders.
You obey, far too pliable, and Jungkook spits in your mouth.
It takes you aback, but he doesn’t let you think about it before he pushes your head closer to his dick. 
“Now you can suck my dick.”
You glance up at him as he lets go of your hair, gently brushing it as if to make sure he didn’t hurt you.
“Damn, Jungkook,” you let out.
He freezes, his lustful gaze turning apologetic. “Oh… wait, I’m sorry if-“
“No,” you interrupt. “That was hot.”
“Are you sure?”
Without breaking eye contact, you swirl your tongue around the tip of his dick, mixing his drool with yours that was already there. “Yes.”
And then you unleash yourself, taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. You hollow your cheeks, swallow around him, and then pull away so that you can lick from between his balls up to the tip of his cock. You apply pressure to his frenulum, teasing it for a little longer, and then you circle the head of his dick again, sucking on it.
“Fuck,” Jungkook curses.
And he keeps on cursing as you keep going, the taste of his precum far too inebriating. You want more of it, you want all of it, and you give it to him, show him just how much you’ve wanted him too. Just how much you’ve always found him hot, how much you’ve always dreamed of choking on his dick when he bucks his hips again, and this time the gag reflex makes you choke.
You pull away with drool on your chin, teary-eyed as you look up at him.
“Listen,” he says. “If you keep going, I’ll come. I’m down if you are, but I really, really want to fuck you.”
“Put a condom on your fucking dick, JK,” you tell him. “I want you.”
You don’t have to say it twice. Jungkook walks to his nightstand, fishing a condom out of the drawer. He’s quick to rip the tinfoil package, pulling the condom out so that he can wrap it on his cock. You watch from where you’ve lied back down on the bed, fingers mindlessly drawing circles on your clit after you’ve taken your panties off.
“You’re so fucking desperate for me, peach,” Jungkook purrs. “You really are just a dirty slut for me.”
And then he’s climbing on the bed, pulling you up. He rids you of your shirt, and he curses under his breath at the sight of your lace bralette. 
“You’re keeping this on,” he says, and you nod as he pushes you back down on the bed so that he can climb on top of you. “Stop me if it’s too much, okay?”
You blink once, not sure you heard right, and Jungkook bends to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. You weren’t expecting it, and your heart melts in your chest, even as his tip nudges your entrance.
“You sure you want me?” he asks. “We can stop-“
“Jungkook, fuck me before I go insane.”
He smirks, and he pushes in unforgivingly, slamming his dick in to the hilt. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your mouth falls open, though no sound escapes your lips. Jungkook grunts, and his dick twitches inside of you, bringing back stars to your vision.
“How can you be so fucking tight?” he asks. “Am I not turning you on?”
“Oh, you are.” You shudder in delight at the feel of him inside of you.
He pulls almost all the way back, and then snaps his hips forward again. “You better not be fucking anyone else,” he says. “Your pussy is mine.”
A part of you wants to say your pussy is no one’s but yours, but Jungkook immediately starts pounding into you, so hard his headboard hits the wall repeatedly. Once, you would have been on the other side of the wall, thinking about him fucking some girl, but now he’s fucking you.
Now he’s fucking you, his large dick dragging on your walls so perfectly you understand his reputation. He’s good, far too good, and you know he’ll easily be able to get you to come again. Especially as he bends forward to hit a better angle, and your hands find his thighs so that you can mark him there.
“Peach,” he moans, and you’re surprised to hear the nickname in the heat of the action, yet it makes so much sense.
It makes so much sense for you and Jeon Jungkook, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You feel so good,” you cry out, and Jungkook slows down so that he can lower himself on top of you, his forearms framing your face.
He pecks your lips. “It’s because you take me so well.”
You moan as he increases his pace once more, jackhammering into you. It hurts a little, but there’s something so sinful about the feeling of his dick hitting your cervix that all you can do is beg for more, even though he’s already pounding into you.
He doesn’t disappoint, clearly understanding what you want. Indeed, Jungkook pulls out, flips you over, settling himself between your legs so that he can hit it from the back. He raises your hips, just enough so that he can align himself with your entrance, and then he’s fucking you again, the new angle so good your orgasm approaches you at light speed.
“I’ll come,” you warn him in a high-pitched sound.
“Yeah?” he grunts, and all you do is moan his name in reply, right as he reaches in front of you, fingers skillfully aiming for your clit.
The second he’s pressing circles on your clit you climax, vision turning fully white as he slows down inside of you, giving you a respite so that he can milk your orgasm out of you.
“That’s it, peach,” he says, voice so low it’s almost a growl. “You’re such a good fucking girl for me.”
The words barely register, yet they make your head swim with ecstasy, swim with desire for the man behind you, on top of you. And once he’s sure to have milked your orgasm, Jungkook resumes his unforgiving speed, and his headboard bangs in the wall so loud you wonder if it’ll break.
Jungkook breaks first, bending down as his high hits, and he grunts and moans, his dick twitching inside of you. You wrap one hand around his forearm closest to your face, your walls fluttering around his dick as he shakes, spurting his cum into the condom.
He comes for a long time, but eventually his high recedes, and all that’s left to be heard in the room is your heavy breathing mingling with his. He’s wet on top of you, his body covered in a sheen of sweat, yet you don’t want him to move. 
You feel safe here, under him. Like his large frame will keep all atrocities of the world away from you.
Jungkook takes a deep breath and presses a kiss on your cheek. A tired smile grows on your lips, and it only gets bigger when he does it again, his lips lingering on your skin.
“That felt good?” he asks against you.
“Mmh,” you let out. 
“Good.” He pauses, pressing another kiss on your cheek before straightening, returning to his previous kneeling position. He massages your ass, and you almost purr from how good it feels. His softening dick falls out of you, and you look at him over your shoulder.
He’s dishevelled, sinfully so. The top of his chest is red, and wet strands of hair cling to his forehead. Yet he’s more beautiful than you’ve ever seen him, and it makes your heart flutter in your ribcage.
“You look good,” you tell him, even though you didn’t mean to say the words aloud.
He takes it in stride, a grin growing on his lips. “Thanks peach.” And then his gaze falls to your ass, and he playfully slaps it. “So do you.”
You snort, rolling on your back as he moves off from on top of you. He discards the condom, tying a knot in it before throwing it in the trash can, and you watch as he carefully cleans himself with some tissues. You should probably do the same thing, but all you can do is watch, feeling content in the swimming bliss, in the red light and Jungkook’s company.
“Do you want to take a shower?” he asks.
You hum, nodding lazily. “I should.”
“I’ll come with you,” he offers, hand extended towards you.
You can’t say no, so you take a shower with him, revelling in the feel of his large hands as he washes your back. You offer him the same treatment, and he teases you about it, yet it’s lacking its usual bite. His tone only holds endearment now, and maybe that’s why you don’t get angry.
Maybe that’s why you both are a giggling and blushing mess when you step out of the shower, and he wraps you in a towel before grabbing one for himself. He dries his hair first, and then wraps the towel around his waist, uncaring that he’s dripping water all over the floor. It’s usually something that drives you crazy, but right now you really can’t bring yourself to care.
Instead, you brush your teeth beside him, shrieking when he pokes your ribs.
“Jungkook!”
He laughs. “Sorry.”
He doesn’t look apologetic at all, and so you narrow your gaze at him, before spitting the toothpaste in the sink, letting the water carry it away.
“I’ll get my revenge someday,” you warn him.
“I’m terrified,” he teases, and you roll your eyes as you put the toothbrush away, leaving him alone in the bathroom. He’s quick to follow behind you as you aim for your room.
You’re not surprised when he follows you in, looking far too at ease in your space.
“What are you doing?” you ask him.
“Aren’t we sleeping together?”
You widen your gaze, letting out a small laugh. “You want to share a bed?”
He frowns, lips jutting out in a small pout. “Yeah?”
“You’re simping.”
His mouth falls open, and then he laughs, though it’s short-lived. His eyes darken, and he steps closer to you, one large hand wrapping around your throat. You gulp, and he tightens his grip, bending down so that he can steal a languid kiss on your lips. He tastes of mint, and you let out a breathy sound as he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue in your mouth.
“Then I’ll let you sleep alone, peach,” he says when he pulls away, his hand falling to his side.
He’s already in the hallway when you call behind him, “Wait!”
Jungkook stops, but he doesn’t turn to look at you. So you walk over to him, pulling on his arm.
“Stay?”
He slides his gaze to you, a smirk adorning his lips. “Look who’s simping now?”
You clench your jaw, yet all he does is flick your nose as he moves back into your room, plopping down on your bed.
“My mattress is more comfortable,” he comments.
You glare at him, though your expression softens when his eyes shift from the ceiling to you. 
“Then do you want to sleep in your bed?”
“With you?” he asks. As you nod yes, he adds, “Absolutely.”
And that is how you find yourself in Jungkook’s bed, his inked arm wrapped around you as he holds you close to his chest. He turned off the LED lights, and his breathing is steady and deep behind you.
Your thoughts slide to Taehyung. To how he’d react if he saw you and Jungkook right now, all cuddled up in his best friend’s bed. You wonder, would he kill Jungkook or you first?
You reckon that that will be a bridge you’ll cross when you get to it. You don’t want to ruin what you might now have with Jungkook, not when getting to where you are tonight was such a hassle already. 
A hassle, yes, but worth every step of the way. If only for Jungkook to tighten his arm around you, pressing a kiss on the back of your head.
“I’ve been thinking,” he whispers.
“Yeah?” you let out as he doesn’t say anything else for a few seconds.
“Now I’ll allow you to call me crazy,” he adds, and you laugh, turning in his hold so that you can face him. His features are barely visible in the dim light filtering from behind the curtains, yet you’re pretty sure his eyes are soft as they meet yours. “But I want to go to New York with you.”
Your brows furrow. “To New York?” you press.
“My brother has an engagement party next weekend, and I’ve been dreading going.”
Now you’d say your heart just dropped to your ass because, is he really asking you to meet his family?
“You want me to go with you to your brother’s engagement party?” you let out.
He chuckles. “Yes.”
“But we’re not…” you trail off.
You’re not delusional enough to believe you’re suddenly dating Jeon Jungkook. Just because you both admitted your attraction to the other doesn’t mean that you have to dive head first into a relationship… right?
“No, we’re not,” he says as if sensing your unease. “My family sucks and I just… I’ve been dreading going, but I thought that it could be fun with you.”
You feel bad for him, for that vulnerable mention of his family, but you don’t want to push, so you say, “And what will you tell your family that I am?”
“Would you mind pretending to be my girlfriend?” he suggests. “Just for the weekend, so that you don’t get any wrong ideas.”
You roll your eyes, and he laughs, having probably seen the gesture. “What do I get in return?” you ask.
“My undying love and gratitude?” he teases, his bunny grin on display.
“Are you saying you love me, Jeon Jungkook?”
The silence is a little too long for comfort, and your heart races in your chest, awaiting his answer. Yet he only shrugs his shoulders, before saying, “You wish. So, is that a yes or a no?”
“It’s from next Friday to Sunday?” you enquire. 
He nods, and you truly take the time to ponder. Because you don’t know if it’s a good idea. If it means just getting attached more when one day this is all bound to go up in flames. 
Or maybe it won’t. Maybe Taehyung won’t be the overbearing asshole that you’ve known him to be your whole life, and maybe he’ll let you do whatever it is that you have to do with Jeon Jungkook. Maybe he’ll let you live what you have to live with Jungkook…
But then you think about Colton, you think about Lisa, about Shelly, Jungkook’s reputation once more haunting you. You’re not delusional enough to think you’ll be the one to change him.
Yet a weekend away, just the two of you… It sounds like heaven, though you’re aware it might just be hell disguised as a beautiful memory that will taunt you somewhere along the line.
College is meant to experience things though, right?
So you find yourself asking, “At what time do we leave?”
Prev | Chapter 7.5 | Next
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gosh where are these two headed :') next chapter is v special to me and i'm really excited for you guys to read! But first, let me know what you thought of this chapter? did we like it?<3
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tinycoffeeroom · 2 months ago
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birds of a feather | daniel ricciardo
face claim: N/A ♡
request: here !
pairing: daniel ricciardo x british!reader
cw: mentions of chr*stian horner, singapore gp 2024
a/n: sorry for the long hiatus but i just had to come back and make something for danny. i've loved that man since i got into f1 and the idea that i won't see him on track anymore hurts so deeply. thank you for the memories honey badger, you will always have a place here on tinycoffeeroom <3
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Hi baby.
Hi love.
You sound exhausted, did you not sleep well last night?
Not really, I've been trying to go over strategies with the team, but nothing seems to be working. There's no way I'm getting in the points this week.
I'm sorry Danny, I know how much you've been working on this...
Have you asked them about that power unit thingy you were talking about?
Yeah... they don't have the time to test it and add it in before this race or even COTA.
What about the new rear wing?
Well...
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Anyway, enough about this shit show. How are you, darling? I miss you.
I miss you too, pretty boy. It sucks that this conference overlaps the race, I wish I was there so bad. Just wanna hug you.
Me too, y/n. Me too. I'm coming back as soon as the race is over. At least we have 4 weeks before the next one. Did you manage to book time off?
I did! 2 whole weeks to follow you across the globe watching you strut your stuff! Hopefully we can get Horsey back for the memories.
Blake's been emailing the owner, so hopefully Horsey will make a reappearance. (LAUGHS)
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Oh wait, Helmut's calling me, I'll call you back babe.
Ok! Lemme know what he says!
Always do. Love you.
Love you too pretty boy.
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It had been a last minute decision, choosing to fly out to Singapore. You knew Daniel would never put his own needs above yours, and while the conference was important for your career, he was important to you too.
It had been easy getting everything sorted. By the time you were texting Blake about flying over, he had already sent you a message, a simple "you know?".
A quick email to your boss, a semi lie spun about a family emergency, and a whirlwind of packing bags later, you found yourself sitting in Heathrow.
Your fingers twitched nervously as you checked the time differences between England and Singapore, double checking Daniel wouldn't find it strange if you didn't respond to his texts for the next 13 hours.
Your flight left at 8PM Singapore time, that gave you at least 10 hours before he would wake up for the race.
Blake had sneakily upgraded your tickets to first class so you could sleep comfortably on the flight and be ready to go straight into race day, or night, when you landed.
Tapping your phone awake, you smile at the lock screen staring back at you.
You and Daniel had gone away with a few other couples from the grid, a well needed break from the stress of Formula 1. In the midst of a late night beach walk with Charles and Alex, Daniel had grabbed your thighs, hoisting you over his shoulder.
Your shrieks of laughter had drawn some weird looks from those around you, but neither of you cared. You'd clawed your way back, legs settling tightly around Daniel's waist as his arms wrapped tightly around yours.
You didn't even notice the flash of Alex's phone, too enthralled in the wide smile encapsulating the man holding you, all teeth and gums and happiness dripping from him like sweet honey. A quick peck to the bridge of his nose and then the corner of his mouth was enough for him to lower you gently to the ground, arms still encompassing you tightly. 
The sound of Charles fake gagging beside you finally pulled the two of you out of the lovesick stupor you'd been caught in, eyes roaming the shadows cast across your lover's face from the fading sunset. 
When Alex had texted you the photo once you were back in the hotel room, limbs wrapped around one another in the cool, air conditioned room, you'd chuckled lightly, drawing Daniel's attention. 
"What's so funny?" The hand gripping your thigh draped lazily across his lap squeezed once, thumb rubbing back and forth soothingly. 
Turning the phone to face him, you watched his eyes light up, that same dazzling smile spreading as he took in the photo. 
"Send that to me."
You hummed in response, airdropping the photo to him as he pulled your thigh higher up his lap. As he leaned forward, lips searching for yours under the dim lamp light, you quickly set the photo as your lock screen, no doubt in your mind that Daniel would soon do the same. 
A tannoy drags you back to the present. 
"All passengers for flight SIA324, please make your way to the gate. Boarding will begin in 15 minutes."
Typing out a quick goodnight message to Daniel, you pocket your phone, sighing as you make your way towards what could be the last time you see Daniel in a Formula 1 car.
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ynstagram uploaded three stories to their close friends
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replies:
lilymhe 💔 if i knew you were coming to singapore, i would have come too! ↳ ynstagram was a last minute decision sorry babe xx ↳ lilymhe ... don't tell me ↳ ynstagram 🙃
maxverstappen1 how did you get time off?? i thought you were super busy with work ↳ ynstagram claimed a family emergency, even if danny doesn't want me here, i needed to come ↳ maxverstappen1 he needs you y/n, more than i think even he knows
landonorris does dan know you're coming? ↳ ynstagram nope, blocked him from my close friends for a bit ↳ landonorris sneaky, i like it ↳ landonorris see you soon y/n, glad you'll be here :)
iamrebeccad you're coming to the gp??? come to ferrari hospitality if you can!!!! alex misses you 🥺 ↳ ynstagram don't think i'll be leaving vcarb this weekend, we can meet up for brunch soon though 🩷 ↳ iamrebeccad oh... yeah sure, just let me know 💜
blakefriend hope you got to the hotel alright, me and dan are out for his training session, did you get the keycard ok? ↳ ynstagram i did, and the paddock passes. thanks for this blake, i know with everything going on, last minute admin is the last thing you need ↳ blakefriend if it means dan can have some sense of calm in this mess, i'd do it 10 times over ↳ blakefriend we'll be back at 1pm, see you in a few hours ↳ ynstagram 🫡 see you then
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Getting from the airport to the hotel had been easy enough. Piling the bags you had brought from Monaco to London and now to Singapore onto the only trolley remaining, you make your way down to the Arrivals.
Stepping through the automatic doors, your eyes dart between the people around you. Families reuniting with bright laughter and happy tears, lovers sharing intimate kisses under the harsh airport lights. Businessmen already glued to the phone in their hands as they weave through bodies with ease, their bodies twisting and turning like a well rehearsed waltz.
A man in a black suit jacket and oversized chauffeur hat catches your eye, his eyes following your figure as you try to move around the other passengers. You glance down at the large piece of paper held just above his waist. 
“Y/N L/N” is scrawled in large black letters across the paper, chicken scratch that looks very much like Blake’s.
Making your way over, the man tips the edge of his chauffeur hat slightly, reaching a hand out to shake yours. 
You want to apologise for the clamminess of your palms as you accept his welcome, but before you can speak, he’s reaching across to take the trolley from you, his head tilting briefly in the opposite direction.
You follow behind him, feet double stepping to keep up as he expertly navigates the sprawling grounds of Singapore Airport. 
By the time you reach the car out front, a sheen of sweat covers your upper lip and you cringe, feeling your t-shirt slowly cling to your back. 
The man opens the boot, then the back door and ushers you in. The cold air conditioning feels like a welcome home kiss, brushing away the humidity that clings to your skin from the small journey between the airport and the car. By the time the man sits in the driver's seat, your eyes are slipping closed, head lolling against the headrest behind you. 
You didn’t mean to sleep for the entire car journey, but you’d barely been able to rest for more than 20 minutes on the flight, opting instead to cycle through nonsense films to play in the background as the thoughts in your mind waged a war on your emotions. 
It had been a tense 13 hours, trying to work out what had happened on that phone call between Daniel and Helmut. You knew there were talks of him not extending his contract, but leaving mid season?
Your Danny? The self proclaimed and well known Honey Badger, king of late braking and divebombing his grid mates. You’d been with him since the Red Bull days, and even if he wasn’t winning podiums, or even points sometimes, you thought there would be more of an uproar about this from him. 
This wasn’t the same man you’d watch nearly fight a waiter because he refused to bring you a new meal after they’d brought out a completely different dish, the same man who left everything on the tarmac and often dragged you to his trailer post race interviews for a well deserved nap. 
His texts had been despondent, almost like he believed this was the goodbye he deserved. 
That’s the part you couldn’t move past. The idea that he was going to finish his last race without the flair of Daniel Ricciardo, no doughnuts, no grid walk, no party to celebrate the last 13 years. 
After the McLaren debacle, you understood why he chose to fly under the radar. With COVID and the situation with Oscar, he’d been more than willing to slip away peacefully but this was different. 
This was Red Bull. Or the subsidiary at least. The team he’d spent the longest time in Formula 1 with. The team who took him in as a junior, that he’d won 7 Grand Prix’s with, scored well over 1000 points racing for. 
You would have thought that they would have wanted to give him a goodbye worthy of what he had brought to the team.
By the time the chauffeur shakes you gently awake, your mind is no clearer but one thing is for sure. Daniel will not face this storm alone.
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The time of Daniel getting back from his workout was looming slowly. Since entering the hotel room, you’d hopped in the shower, scrubbing the aeroplane smell from you. The suitcases were lined up against the wall and you were currently lazing on the bed, scrolling mindlessly through Tiktok. Every so often, you’d flick to the notification screen, just in case Blake’s incoming text had somehow slipped past without you catching it. 
Your eyes flutter slowly closed, maybe a 10 minute nap wouldn’t hurt. Before you can lock your phone and settle into the plush pillows, a notification pings through. Eyes darting open, you catch the banner notification before it slides up. 
They were in the lobby. 
“Fuckin’ hell Blake.” Scrambling up from the bed, you round the corner and make sure there is no sign of you in the living room section. Your shoes are tucked away in the bottom of the closet, jacket strewn across the chair in the corner of the bedroom. 
The telltale ring of a keycard being swiped rings through the air and you slide to hide behind the wall, heart thumping against your chest. Doubt begins to swirl through your mind. What are you even doing here? What if he didn’t invite any of his family or friends because he didn’t want them to see him go out like this? Would he want you to? 
Loud voices echo through the hallway, Aussie slang thrown about but you focus on the one thick with a Perth twang. 
Your Danny. 
“Mate, I’m just gonna go point Percy at the porcelain.” Blake’s voice grows louder as he walks through to the bedroom. He locks eyes with you, giving you a quick one armed hug as you exchange quiet greetings. 
Once enough time has passed, he gestures with a finger to his lips to be quiet, head popping around the corner to Daniel. 
“Did you bring Y/N’s jacket with you by mistake?”
A confused “No” comes from the living room before Blake leans across you, grabbing the clothing from the chair. He holds it aloft, in Daniel’s line of sight. 
“No idea what that’s doing here, mate. You know I always bring a t-shirt of Y/N’s which should be under the pillow.”
Your heart swells at the statement, you had no idea he’d sneak something of yours with him whenever you couldn’t attend races. The earlier doubts dissipate, you knew right here, with Daniel, was where you were supposed to be. 
“Strange… oh! I know what’s happened.” Blake shoots you a grin before wrapping a hand around your arm, pulling you into the doorway. 
Smiling softly at Daniel, you huff lightly at the way his eyes widen almost comically as he takes you in. Silence spreads through the room, the two of you locked in intense eye contact as Blake slowly moves aside to let you reunite. 
“Hello, my love.”
Daniel’s bottom lip wobbles slightly and before you can process it, he’s launched across the room, almost body slamming you with the force he runs at you with. Arms latch tightly around your waist, his head tucked tightly into your neck, trembling lips resting against your pulse point. 
“What, I, how?” The words are muffled against your skin, the edges of them tear soaked as the collar of your t-shirt dampens to match. 
Carding your hand through his still sweaty curls, you scratch lightly against his scalp. “As soon as you told me, Blake texted me. He booked me on the next flight.”
Daniel’s head pops out from his hiding place, all three of you ignoring the tears smattering his cheeks. He looks across to Blake, who simply shrugs his shoulders, reaching down to grab his gym bag. 
“You needed them, and they needed you. It was a no brainer. Also, don’t get sappy with me, I charged the flight to your business card.” A chuckle follows and he claps Daniel on the back once, nodding in your direction before heading out the front door, the sound of it closing echoing slightly. 
Daniel’s eyes track from the closing door back to you, wide in wonderment. “But your conference?”
Shrugging, you lean forward to press a soft kiss to the apple of his cheek. “Called in a family emergency. There’s no way I was letting you go through this alone.” You lift your hand up to his face, tracing a path across the same cheek you’d just kissed. “I know your parents or your friends can't be here, but I couldn’t bear the thought of you having to deal with everything going on with no kind of support. I know Blake’s here but-”
You’re cut off by his lips covering yours, desperation seeping through as the words die on your tongue. The taste of salt blooms, the tears still dripping slowly from his eyes. Yours join in quick succession. A rushed “I love you” slips from your mouth the moment you part, his own coming straight after. 
The slide of his lips against your own turns molasses slow, the cooled sweat on both of you soon making way for its heated counterpart as you gravitate closer to one another. Warm hands sneak under your t-shirt, the palms cupping the swell of your hips as Daniel whispers words of gratitude through stolen breaths. Your own hands rest against his neck, nails creating slight grooves under the pressure. 
Knowing what will come tomorrow, you take in this moment, second by second. The feel of his sweat slick skin under your palms, the slight stubble on his jaw scratching at your chin, the way his heart beats erratically in his chest pressed close to yours. 
Every part of this Daniel you memorise, capturing each memory in a gold plated frame. You store them away in the evergrowing gallery of your brain dedicated to the man before you, seal them under lock and key for your eyes only. 
You always knew that one day, you’d share them with him. When all the racing was over and the two of you had the house with the white picket fence, or more aptly, the farm with the white picket fence. You’d dissect every moment of him you stored away, stacked one by one for safekeeping. From the moment the two of you met in that busy London street, every grand prix win, every high followed by every low. Just in case he began to forget the man he was, the man he would still be. 
You just didn’t realise that day would be coming so soon. 
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ynstagram danielricciardo
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[caption 2: gorgeous boy xx]
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After the race, you’d left Daniel to his own devices. You knew he would want to spend his time wandering around the track, soaking in every moment of what could be his last ever race. 
Grabbing a ride back with Blake, the two of you stick to small talk, neither able to formulate the words you truly wanted to say. 
He’d given you a brief goodbye in the lobby, arms wrapped around you in a tight squeeze before the two of you separated, him taking the stairs and you choosing to ride in the elevator. 
Shuffling through the front door, you kick your shoes off, nudging them next to the other pairs in the entryway. On the way up, you’d sent Daniel a quick text to let you know when he was on his way back. 
Expecting him to respond around midnight, you slowly work through your nighttime routine, opting to wear one of his shirts to bed instead of the pyjamas you’d neatly packed. 
Slipping into bed, you unlock your phone, squinting at the brightness. Still no messages from Daniel, the 1:27am at the top of your phone making you sigh deeply. Reaching over, you plug your phone onto charge before starting up a well loved podcast, choosing an episode you could probably quote from memory with how often you relistened to it. 
As the dulcet voices fall away to background noise, you settle in for the night, head half shoved into the pillow beside you, Daniel’s scent still lingering from this morning.
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Blearily opening your eyes as the other side of the bed dips lightly, you quickly tap your phone to see the time. A bold 3:57am blinks back at you briefly before the screen goes dark once more. 
“Didn’t mean to wake you, sorry babe.” Daniel’s voice whispers in the darkness, hand winding its way around your waist to pull you back to his chest. 
Resting your hand over his, fingers interlocking in the open spaces, you squeeze twice. “s’ok, wanted to see you when you got back anyway.”
Silence follows and before you can roll over to look at Daniel, his face presses into the centre of your shoulder blades, the skin warm through the fabric of the shirt.
“Danny?”
He stays quiet, the hand on your waist gripping tighter. You can hear the way his breath starts to shake on the inhale, the tears from his eyes slowly dampening the back of his shirt currently wrapped around you. 
“Danny, lemme see you.” A shake of his head rustles the shirt. “Baby, please.”
His grip on your waist loosens and you shuffle around carefully, trying to avoid shoving an elbow in his ribs and adding further insult to injury. 
You can hardly make out his face, the small amount of moonlight shining through the haphazardly closed curtains barely illuminating the curve of his cheek. It does catch the glint of his honey brown eyes, tears shimmering along his lash line. 
“Oh, my love.” Your heart breaks at the sight of the man in front of you, a shell of who you’ve come to know and love. The pressure behind your eyes builds, tears threatening to mirror Daniel’s. “C’mere.”
One hand wrapping around the back of his neck, you pull him to lay against you. He burrows in, head pressed tight into the junction between your neck and shoulder, a sombre juxtaposition to this morning. 
“This is the end. Everything I’ve worked for, over. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.” His arm wraps tight around your waist once more, his leg coming to rest between yours. “I’m officially a has-been.” A wet chuckle escapes him, the noise too loud in the surrounding silence. 
You can’t stop yourself from tapping the back of his neck lightly. He knows you hate when he talks like that. “No one’s allowed to talk about the man I love like that.”
His head lifts from your neck to throw you a quick glance. “Even if it’s the man himself?”
Pulling him back to rest against your neck, you run your hands through his hair gently, twirling the longer strands around one of your fingers. “Especially if it’s the man himself. You’re not a has-been, never will be. You’re so talented in so many different ways, there will never be a time you can say you’re past your prime or whatever stupid shit is running around that gorgeous head of yours.” Your fingers tap against his scalp to drive the point home. “Even if you never step foot in one of those cars again, you’ve got your dirt biking, the wine company, Enchante, the 17 other high intensity sports you do that raise my blood pressure every time I watch. You’re smart enough to know how to adapt, and that is what you’ll do. I know it.”
“You seem very sure.” His voice comes out muffled from its spot against your neck, his breath tickling your skin. 
“That’s because I am. I was by your side during the papaya setback, I saw how you came back stronger. That’s what this situation is too, a setback. You’ll find a way through, even if I have to stand by the solution with a flashlight to guide you that way.” 
He chuckles, the edges of his voice no longer tainted with sorrow. “Can you still not say their name?”
You join his laughter, remembering the last time you’d spoken about McLaren. “Last time I mentioned that company, I got a cease and desist. Don’t think Zac was too happy with the way I was deservedly slagging them off.” Your nose wrinkles as you think back to the snottily worded email and attached letter that dropped into your inbox a few days after your last public comment about their shitty management. “So I promised to never let that name slip from my lips again.”
The room falls silent again, just for a moment. The two of you still tangled in an embrace, even as the first prickles of sweat bead against your hairline from the heat of your bodies in the warm Singapore evening. 
Daniel sighs, shuffling minutely to run a hand up and down the length of your side. “I just… I remember when I was 20. Being so excited to get into an actual F1 car, even as a tester. I remember jumping out, seeing that I was the fastest and thinking ‘this is it. This is my chance.’ I wanted to be a Red Bull driver so bad, with every part of me. To win a race, maybe even win a world championship, leave a legacy behind. And now I’ve wasted over a decade of my life with only 8 race wins to show for it. Not even a championship. What kind of legacy does that leave me?”
The sorrow creeps back into his voice, and you have to clear your throat before responding, willing the tears back once more. “A legacy doesn’t have to mean winning a world championship. Or even a race. Think about Jacky Ickx, Stirling Moss, Juan Pablo Montoya. All legends in their own right, but none of them had a world championship. If this was your last race in Formula 1, you leave behind a legacy in your own right. People will know your name for years, even decades to come. King of the late brakers, the guy who always had a smile and a kind word to say about everyone he ever met; even if they didn’t deserve it, the aptly named Honey Badger. Just because you don’t leave behind a legacy in being number 1, doesn’t mean you won’t be up there with the greats.”
Daniel hums, taking in your words, dissecting them one by one. “I’m scared. Where do I go now? Do I even try to come back? Move to a different company entirely? Retire officially and retreat to the farm? I don’t know who I am without Formula 1.”
You take a moment to think about the situation for yourself. A world where Daniel Ricciardo is no longer a Formula 1 driver. It always seemed so impossible to you, the company so deeply ingrained into his being that the very idea of him would cease to exist without it in his life. 
“Truthfully, I don’t know.” Your hand continues to card through his hair, a soothing gesture. Whether it was meant to soothe him or you, you weren’t too sure. “I wouldn’t even know where to start with advice, I’ve never had to walk in your shoes. But that doesn’t need to be something to think about right now. Enjoy some downtime, go home and spend time with your family, race dirt bikes around different parts of the world, go see Scotty and Chloe. The future is still so bright for you, Danny. And I’m just happy that I get to be beside you through it all.”
Slowly, he raises his head from its perch, bright eyes finding yours. Despite the situation, you swear he’s never looked more beautiful than in this moment. Teeth bitten lips find yours in the dim light, clumsy and fierce, but perfect in its own right. 
“I love you. So fucking much. From the first day we met and you shouted at me for splashing you with a puddle, I knew you were the one. Thank you for never leaving.”
You laugh aloud, remembering how you’d been late for university, umbrella thrashing in the England wind, when a bike had come up dangerously close beside you, running straight through a puddle and covering your jeans in muddy water. 
After a long rant at the rider, you’d looked up into apologetic golden eyes and high cheekbones, and immediately the anger had dissipated. “And I love you. Maybe not from the puddle moment, but you won me over nearly immediately after. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here, with you.”
This is the moment. The moment to open the gallery in your mind to the man in front of you. To recall each and every moment you’d captured in glossy oils and remind him of who he is, who he always has been. 
And then Daniel lays his head back down to your chest, lips pressing an appreciative kiss to the shirt underneath, warmth blossoming through the fabric to your skin below. And the moment passes. 
Pressing your head back into the pillow below, you listen to how Daniel’s breathing slows, settling down as he drifts off to sleep. The perfect moment will come back. There’s still time.
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liked by fan, fan and 982,167 others
formula1 BREAKING: Daniel Ricciardo to leave RB, the team have announced
see 238,816 others
fan what the fuck
fan not danny ric 💔💔
fan we just got him back😭😭😭
fan helmut marko watch your back.
user lol not surprised, we all knew he was washed ↳ fan 123.456.789.012 ↳ user did i just get doxxed?
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👤 danielricciardo liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 890,274 others
ynstagram the man of many names. danny ric, ricky bobby, honey badger and most importantly, the love of my life. i've loved you for 6 summers and i'll love you for 600 more.
in the words of our favourite musical, wherever you go i won't be far to follow. whether it's in the navy of the bulls, papaya of [REDACTED], the bee striped renault or the dazzling white of vcarb, you bring so much light and happiness everywhere you go, and i've been privileged to bask in the warmth of you.
and until the next adventure, i will always be here to remind you of the power and strength you inhabit, the souls you've breathed life into and the happiness you've brought to the sport you love (sometimes more than me) for over a decade.
always and forever, your y/n x
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fan anyone else absolutely sobbing right now?? ↳ fan as if his post wasn't enough to make me bawl, ofc y/n drops this
fan to have a love like y/n and danny...
fan not y/n censoring mclaren, they hate that damn team so much ♥️ ynstagram
danielricciardo my darling, i love you, always and forever ❤️ ↳ ynstagram so excited for our future, whatever it holds ❤️
landonorris thanks y/n max is crying now 👍 ↳ ynstagram 🤣 which one? ↳ maxfewtrell both ↳ maxverstappen1 both
alexandrasaintmleux 🩷 we need another double date when you're back in monaco x ↳ ynstagram do we have to bring them? ↳ danielricciardo on my own dedication post... wow ↳ ynstagram 🤷 gotta show my girl love whenever i can
fan helmut better hide, y/n doesn't play when it comes to their man ↳ fan fr don't let the sappy post fool you, ik they have a hitlist in their notes
fan him leaving before COTA is so messed up, he loves that track 😭😭😭 ↳ ynstagram wish you guys could have seen the special helmet :( ↳ fan OH HELMUT MARKO WHEN I CATCH U!!!!!!! ↳ fan special helmet... pls we need to see i BEG
lewishamilton with you by his side, the future is bright for the honey badger 🤍 ↳ ynstagram thanks lew 🩷 ↳ danielricciardo thanks man :)
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a/n: this is not proof read, so ignore any mistakes. i can't wait to see what danny does in the future, whatever it is, i'll be supporting him all the way <3
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heich0e · 4 months ago
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yuuji's bedtime is 7:30 each night.
there are occasional exceptions like holidays or special events, but as a general rule jin is diligent about making sure his six-year-old is tucked up snug in his little bed by 7:30 sharp so he can get all the sleep he needs to learn and grow and thrive.
sukuna thinks that's all a load of shit.
as such, yuuji's strict bedtime routine is rarely followed when uncle sukuna is tasked with watching him for the night. partially because he thinks it's stupid, and the kid should be allowed to stay up as late as he wants, and partially to spite his older brother for asking him to babysit in the first place.
yuuji hops from one dingy tile to the next on one leg while sukuna surveys the convenience store shelves before his eyes. it's 8:15 now, a full 45 minutes past yuuji's bedtime, and the kid shows no sign of dropping anytime soon—futher proof, sukuna thinks smugly, that all that stuff his brother's always spouting about "childhood development" and "gentle parenting" is a bunch of garbage. he reaches out and plucks a bag of chips off the shelf in front of him, tossing it into the basket dangling from his hand.
"jichan!" yuuji finally lets both his little light-up sneakers hit the floor, looking up at his uncle with sparkling, expectant eyes. sukuna quirks a brow in his direction, waiting for him to continue. "can i show you my dance when we get home?"
"depends," sukuna says, turning and wandering a little further down the aisle. "'s it any good?"
"fushiguro-kun said it was really, really good when i showed him at school!"
sukuna clicks his tongue. "that so?"
"uh-huh!" yuuji replies cheerfully, watching as his uncle tosses a packet of candy into the shopping basket along with the rest of the junk food they'd set out on their after-hours excursion to procure. sukuna has every intention of letting the kid eat as much of it as he wants when they get back to jin's house, which he's sure would appall his older brother.
"if it sucks i'm gonna tell you," sukuna remarks pointedly, grabbing a second pack of the same gummy candy after deciding one was insufficient.
"it doesn't suck!" yuuji insists, trailing along after his uncle as they continue making their way through the store. the young man waves his hand dismissively as he fights back a smirk at the indignation in the brat's voice.
after grabbing a few more items—some chocolate candies, a pint of ice cream, and pack of cigarettes (which even sukuna isn't enough of a degenerate to share with the kid)—the two set off on the short walk back to jin's apartment with their spoils. yuuji is hopping on one foot again, trying to avoid the cracks in the pavement as they make their way home.
sukuna wishes the kid didn't have to stick so close, because he could really go for one of those cigarettes right now, but he resists the urge to fish one out from the pack and resolves to sneak out onto the balcony and smoke one when they get home and he can distract yuuji with the TV long enough to sneak away. in the pocket of his jacket, his cell phone vibrates, signifying a new text, and he digs it out to check the notification.
[new message - 8:22PM] how's babysitting duty?
sukuna smirks a little when he sees your name and message on the small screen in his palm. his eyes briefly flicker up to yuuji, who's wandered ahead a little bit, and then back to the device as he types out his reply.
'he's still alive.'
[new message - 8:23PM] a glowing endorsement
"ojiiiiiichan!"
sukuna glances up from the screen of his phone to see yuuji staring at him.
"what?" he asks his nephew flatly.
the noisy tyke cocks his head to the side. "why'd ya stop walking?"
sukuna blinks, he hadn't noticed he'd stopped while he was texting you.
"and why're you smiling like that?" the kid adds after a moment.
sukuna scowls, tightening his grip on the plastic convenience store bag in his hand in a way that makes it rustle. "'m not smiling like anything."
"you were," yuuji insists as the two start walking in the direction of home again, but this time he falls into step with his uncle instead of racing ahead. sukuna feels his curious eyes on his face as they near jin's apartment.
"stop staring at me," he snaps. "it's rude."
"papa says you're the rudest person he knows," yuuji remarks innocently, blissfully unaware of how scathing the comment really is.
"yeah, well your father's a cun—" he catches himself before he says what he wants to say, quickly (though awkwardly) correcting himself, "—niving guy."
"what's conniving?" yuuji asks.
"it means annoying," sukuna answers with a grunt. it's not true, but that doesn't matter to him.
"jichan, were you talking to a girl on your phone back there?"
sukuna almost stumbles in his surprise, his head whipping to the side to stare at his nephew in shock. "what the hell makes you say that?"
"hell is a bad word!" yuuji points up at his uncle admonishingly.
"i'm a grown up, i'm allowed to say whatever i want," sukuna says with a roll of his eyes. "now back to the question, brat."
"papa says that you're always talking to the girls in your phone when we're eating dinner at the table. it's part of what makes you rude."
sukuna sneers. his brother's always been a narc.
"conniving," sukuna mutters under his breath.
the apartment building is in sight now, and he's grateful because that craving for a cigarette has resurfaced with renewed vigour.
"papa also says that girls don't like ojichan because ojichan makes them cry."
"your papa doesn't know what he's talking about," sukuna grunts, irritated.
"did you make the girl you were talking to back there cry?" yuuji prods again for information.
"no, i didn't," the elder of the duo counters indignantly—weirdly indignantly, if he's being honest.
"good," yuuji says with a firm nod. he starts hopping on one foot again as the two of them approach the main entrance to the building. the lights on his sneakers dance across the pavement in the dark. "if you made her cry that would make me sad for her."
sukuna thinks about you then. you're probably at home now, waiting for him to reply to that last message he didn't get the chance to respond to. you're probably wearing those slippers you like so much, the ones he teases you about every time he comes over. probably in pyjamas already, since you tend to be early to bed. he wonders if you'll still be awake by the time jin gets home to relieve him from his childminding duties. wonders if you'll answer the phone when he calls. wonders if you'll let him come over if he asks.
"yeah," sukuna says quietly, almost unconsciously, as he pulls open the apartment door and allows his nephew to hop across the threshold ahead of him. "that'd make me sad too."
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dancinglikebutterflywings · 21 days ago
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Chosen Appa | Wooyoung
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- Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Single-mom!Reader.
- Requested by: no one
- Requests: Open for now. Please read my requesting guidelines before requesting.
- Warnings: single mum, hints at readers ex-husband being a cheater and an overall douchebag, best friends to lovers.
- Word Count: 1,205
- Taglist: Open. Send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form.
Wooyoung Masterlist | ATEEZ Masterlist
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Walking back into her small living room, Y/N is met with silence. The babbling sounds of her 15-month-old baby girl, who usually keeps herself entertained with her toys in her play pen while Y/N does the housework, has gone quiet. Assuming her little one might have fallen asleep, she peeks into the playpen only to discover that her daughter is missing.  
Panic sets in as Y/N searches every corner of the apartment, trying to convince that her baby isn’t capable of climbing out on her own yet. Her eyes dart to the entrance, where she notices the stroller and the diaper bag are missing. Relief washes over her and is quickly replaced with annoyance as she picks up the phone and calls the only person brave and sneaky enough to kidnap her baby in broad daylight. 
He quickly answers but before he can start his yapping, Y/N yells at him. “Yah! Jung Wooyoung! You better bring my baby back right now.”  
“No,” he says defiantly. “You’ve been under a lot of stress lately with finding a new job, the divorce and your soon to be ex-husband being a total asshole. She’s coming with me to the studio while you have a few hours to yourself," he insists.  "Don’t worry; she’ll be safe and sound. You know everyone here loves her.” 
Y/N can almost hear the smirk in his voice, and it only fuels her irritation further. “You can’t just take her without asking me first! What if something happens? What if she gets scared?” 
“Y/N,” he interrupts, his voice firm yet gentle, “You know I won't let anything happen to her. I protect her as if she's my own." 
"Fine, but if you pull a stunt like this again, you'll never see her again," she warns her best friend. "You got that? I'll make Yeonjun her godfather. You’ll be no one to her." 
"You really trust Yeonjun with Hannie?" he asks, skeptically. 
"He wouldn't kidnap her without me knowing," she defends their mutual friend.  
Wooyoung chuckles on the other end of the call, the sound brings some comfort to her. “You know, I think you’re just jealous because I didn’t kidnap you for the day too. Stop with the housework and enjoy this time to yourself. Take a walk, go get some lunch, do a little shopping.”  
Y/N sighs, her shoulders slumping as she leans against the kitchen counter. The weight of her responsibilities presses down on her. Never did she think she would be jobless, almost divorced and a single mother. But four months ago, everything came crashing down. Her husband’s mistress turned up at their door, crying and pregnant. She left, losing her job in the process, and moved in with her mother who’s been helping support her and Hannie while she finds a new job so she can get an apartment. But finding a job was proving harder than she expected. She’s seriously considering the job her mum offered her at the small restaurant she owns. 
Y/N feels a twinge of guilt for wanting a moment to herself. “I know, but she’s my baby. I can’t help but worry.”  
“Worrying is part of being a mother, but you also need to take care of yourself,” Wooyoung replies, his voice softening.  
Y/N bites her lip, contemplating his words. He’s right, of course. The past few months have been a whirlwind of stress, and she hasn’t had a moment to breathe. “Okay, but I want updates and photos. Text me every hour, or I swear I’ll come down to that studio and take her back myself.” 
"I promise to send you plenty of pictures," he assures her. "Hannie, say see you later, eomma," he adds, moving the phone closer to Hannie.  
Hannie babbles into the phone until a clear word breaks through. "Appa!" 
Y/N’s eyes widen with shock. Hannie just said her first word. Her heart swells with a mix of pride and disbelief. “Did she just say ‘Appa’?” Y/N asks, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she’s afraid to break the special moment. 
"I've been trying to get her to say eomma," Wooyoung admits after putting his phone on speaker, disbelief and pride in his voice also. He quickly ends the call and calls her back on video call. 
She quickly answers and the first thing to pop up on her phone screen is her little girl, her bright eyes sparkling with innocence and joy as she looks past the phone at wooyoung. She’s always imagined the day her daughter would speak her first word, and now it was directed at someone else. Someone that wants nothing to do with her. The reality of her situation hits her like a wave, and she feels a lump form in her throat. 
“Appa,” Hannie keeps saying, her tiny voice filled with joy as she looks up at Wooyoung, her little hands reaching out wanting him to pick her up. "Look, Hannie, it's eomma," Wooyoung says, turning the phone to show Hannie her mother on the screen. For a brief moment, she captures the baby's attention, and Y/N can see the flicker of recognition in her daughter’s eyes. "Can you say eomma?" he playfully encourages, trying to elicit another word from his goddaughter.  
Hannie giggles, her focus shifting back to him, her laughter like music that fills the room. "Appa!" she exclaims again. 
"I think she's calling you Appa," Y/N says, the realization dawning on her. When she thinks about it, Wooyoung has present in Hannie's life more than her own father. Especially since Y/N and her ex-husband ended their relationship. Hannie's father hasn't had anything to do with her since. 
 "Me?" he asks surprised, turning the phone camera back to him. "Why would she call me Appa?" he questions not really thinking about it. 
"Maybe she sees me as a father figure," Y/N tries to convince herself, but deep down, she knows that Hannie is forming connections, and Wooyoung is a significant part of her life. 
"I mean, I’ve been around a lot since you and—" He stops himself, the mention of her ex-husband hanging in the air. 
Y/N swallows hard, the lump in her throat growing. "You have been," she admits, her voice growing softer as she thinks about it. "You’ve been a great, Wooyoung. I don’t know what I would do without you." 
He smiles, but it’s tinged with something more serious. "I just want to be there for both of you. You know that, right? You and Hannie mean the world to me." 
"And you mean the world to us," she replies with a warm smile, her heart swelling with affection. In that moment, she realizes that there could be something more between her, her daughter and her best friend. Wooyoung has stepped into a role that neither of them expected, but it feels right. 
"I don't think this is a conversation that should be spoken about over the phone," he says after a moment of silence. "I'll bring Hannie home now and we can talk more." 
She nods, a small smile playing on her lips and ends the call. She rushes around the room, picking up toys and putting away the play pen. anticipating Wooyoung and Hannie's return home. 
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©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy, modify and/or repost anywhere.
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@staytiny2000 - @treehouse-mouse - @katzline - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea
@rainydayteacups - @green-agent - @tinyelfperson - @yeonjunnie – @hollxe1
@deltamoon666 - @skz1-4-3 - @everythingboutkpop - @oddracha - @http-gyu -
@skittyneos - @pinkpunkdynamite - @keshivibes - @bookswillfindyouaway - @katsukis1wife
@jjoongstar - @arki-sha - @forever-atiny - @lixisoul99 - @do-you-remember-summer-127
@catzachvsvt - @ateez-atiny380 - @reayahnadeem24
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retroaria · 4 months ago
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ੈ♡˳ boyfriend Isagi 。.。:∞♡
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summary: cutsey headcanons for everyones favorite egoist Isagi Yoichi (HIMsagi GOATichi) a bit of a school AU but you can add your own nuances to it ofc I just tried to be general
warnings: purest of fluff (your heart might explode)
BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy 🤍 - aria
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pre!boyfriend isagi who shows his feelings through sweet acts of service before he’s ready to tell you head on. Need a partner for that project? He’s already slipping into the desk beside you, a smile on his face. Left your pencil case in homeroom? He’ll run however many miles to ensure it gets back to you. (could’ve texted you but he wants to hand it to you like Prince Charming). Forgot your lunch that day? he’s already splitting half his bento to give to you.
pre!boyfriend isagi who may be afraid to confront you about his feelings off the bat but will go so far out of his way to form a friendship with you first. Immediately introduces himself as soon as you catch his eye. You guys exchange numbers and socials and the rest is history: late night phone calls, weekend hangouts, walking you to school every morning. This boy wants to be your bestie before he swoops in for the goal (and steals your heart!)
pre!boyfriend isagi who wants to immerse himself in your interests and vise versa. No matter what it is you’re into he knows that understanding your passions will help him further understand you. Loves seeing you in the stands during his practice or games. Will literally melt at the sight of you cheering for him. “Clean up on left field, this boy just turned into a puddle of mush!”
pre!boyfriend isagi who can’t help but brush his hand and arm against yours when you walk together. Can’t help but press his leg to yours when sitting together. Can’t help but offer to carry your bags or books. Can’t help but pick that “lint” out of your hair or that “eyelash” on your face (totally not an excuse to touch you). Can’t help but tug you closer to him in crowded spaces. Can’t help but stare endlessly into your eyes everytime you speak (the BEST listener ever btw)
pre!boyfriend isagi who realizes he doesn’t want to waste another second of his life not being able to call you his. Uses the first moment he gets alone with you to take your hands in his and give you the most honest and heartfelt confession. He’s blushing lightly but confident in the connection he’s worked hard to build with you.
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boyfriend!isagi who cant wait to be able to hold your hand in public, pull you in for quick kisses, wrap his arm around you whenever he wants, hold you close to him on the couch or in bed, tell you how perfect you are everyday, and never let you forget that he feels like the luckiest boy in the world when he’s with you.
boyfriend!isagi who can’t wait to introduce you to all his friends. You meet Bachira first (obvi) and the three of you become an unstoppable trio. Loves having you at post game celebrations and having you as his personal cheerleader (this boy would do anything to win the game and make you proud)
boyfriend!isagi who dies at the thought of you referring to him as “your boyfriend” and getting to say “my girlfriend/boyfriend/partner. he loves talking about you to his parents! They’re so happy to meet you and so glad that he has someone who cares for him. His mom def shows you all his baby photos (babysagi!)
boyfriend!isagi who takes you on the cutest dates and loves when you take him on dates too (makes him feel like a special boy). He always tries to do something where the two of you can spend a lot of time talking or have a nice experience together. He’s so open and willing to try new things with you, having you in his life has opened him up as a person. He’s also never not happy to just spend the night in snuggled up watching a movie/tv show/anime. (Aside: I have an isagi x reader one shot idea where they go on a date to a butterfly garden that I may potentially post Idk yet)
boyfriend!isagi who is constantly worrying about your health and wellbeing. You can’t tell me he isn’t the kind of guy to constantly check up on you, making sure you’re ok physically and mentally as often as he can. If ever you’re feeling upset or in pain/sick he goes into doctor mode and will do everything in his power to help. If all else fails he will just hold you and promise that his love will make it all better (he’s a loving optimist what can I say)
boyfriend!isagi who is the first to admit that he is absolutely smitten and totally wrapped around your finger because he will forever be in awe that he had the chance to share his love and be loved by someone so special <3
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I’d love to do some more specific headcanons on him but I kept these as generic as possible and tried my best to capture just how sweetboy coded he is lol.
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lcriedlastnight · 4 months ago
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Ok so I got a request pls 🙏 🥹
Maybe Oscar's or Max Fs sister and Lando with the prompt "I'm your lockscreen?" - "you weren't supposed to see that"
I hope that's enough if not I can come up with a longer one
no this is so prefect! i love this so much!
tw: fem!reader, swear, lmk if you want me to add anything.
w/c: 933
max was a great brother. he was a little protective but overall he was the best. he had gone round all of his friends, every time he made a new one, telling them you were strictly off limits.
of course this also applied to lando, too. no matter how rich they were, or how famous or how pretty they were. yeah, you maybe had fallen victim to lando norris' charm. you had no idea what it was because he literally had no game, what so ever. you just thought he was cute, it made you feel like a teenager with a crush on your brother's best friend. half of it being true.
you had been looking forward to max's birthday celebrations, not to celebrate his birthday. no but to see his pretty, curly-haired best friend. you had not been this excited in a while. it was a little embarrassing but you just played it off like you were excited to be with your brother. maybe you were a little excited to see him too, you had not actually seen him in a while as he was almost just as bad as lando with being all around the world all the time. you were jealous, you always wanted to travel.
you arrive at max's house just after lando does. you two are the only guests that have arrived so far. seeing as max had asked you both to come a little earlier to help him prepare that did not surprise you. you do not even bother knocking, instead you just walk inside and announce aloud that you were here. you hear a muffled shout from the other room- well two muffled shouts to be exact, alerting you that both boys were in the kitchen. lando's laugh could be heard from a mile away.
max greets you as soon as he notices your presence while lando just stands in place, grinning like a fool. you do not understand him sometimes but you smile back at him anyways, never one to be impolite.
"hi. what exactly do you need help with, max?" you asked, setting your things on the counter so you could help him with the getting ready prospect of the party.
an hour later and you wished you had never bothered responding to your brothers desperate text messages last night, pleading you to come help him set up. both boys had ended up slacking so you had put mostly everything together. max complained "why should i have to set up? it's my birthday." but lando was quick to humble him, "you're the one who decided to throw a last minute party in your own house."
after a lot of of complaining from both boys, they eventually did end up pulling their weight and once all the balloons and banners were set up to max's liking he gave both you and lando the go ahead to begin getting ready. unfortunately because you knew you were getting ready at max's you had to haul a heavy bag full of your makeup and outfit options for the night in a tote bag. on the bright side though, lando offered to carry it up stairs for you and you got to see the way his muscles bulged as he strained to carry the bag.
for some reason lando had refused to leave your side as you got ready, claiming it was relaxing to watch you get ready. how you did not know this boy was down bad for you was unbelievable. he literally offered to let you play music on his phone while yours charged on the opposite side of the room. he watched on with a pretty smile as you scroll through his liked songs on spotify, trying to find the one that sets the mood of how you were currently feeling getting ready.
lando makes small talk as he lays on the guest bed behind you, just catching up with you really, as you follow the steps in your makeup routine. the song catches you off guard but you physically recoil as it plays. "i fucking hate this song!" you exclaim, the pre-game drinks settling in a little. you tap lando's phone screen to change the song when you catch a glimpse at his phone screen. it was a glimpse because it faded to black before you could really study it. you did not need more than a glimpse to recognise your face staring back at you.
"i'm your lock screen?" you ask lando. you turn to face him on the bed, you can see the panic in his eyes as your words register in his mind.
"what?" he laughs lunging for his phone like that would do anything. the damage was done now. you had seen the picture. there was no going back. "that's not- uh."
you smirk as lando tries and fails to dig himself out this.
"you weren't supposed to see that." lando blushes a little. it is the first time you have ever seen lando blush. you suppress the urge to grab your own phone and snap a picture of him, all pink cheeked and starry eyed. maybe you would make it your lock screen.
"it's fine. it's cute. now i want you as my lock screen." you smile at him desperately wanting to calm his nerves. lando just grins at you.
you had then made it that night's mission to take the cutest picture of lando to set as your own lock screen. you succeeded but not without a mouthful from max on what the fuck you thought you were doing.
478 notes · View notes
spiderwcd · 11 months ago
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sense | c.b.
pairing: colby brock x medium ! f ! reader
summary: colby meets a new medium for their video, but he didn't expect to have a crush on her 
w.c.: 5.4k
warning(s): talk about paranormal, creepy activity, a lil steamy moment
a/n:  like sleep tight, the hauntings are made up and the story line does not exist. i do want to add that, i suck at writing a lot of like investigative stories so please don’t judge me. also I had requests for this type of story, ironically I was already working on it so hope you guys enjoy it
images from pinterest !
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"Is anyone gonna join us?" Colby asked, packing his camera into his bag. 
"Actually, yeah, some girl that Celina referred from the home town," Sam replied. "She's supposed to be a medium." He added. 
The two guys finally we're going to investigate the infamous orphanage that is supposedly haunted by the spirits of the children that died. They had finally done the research and were ready to go investigate. 
"Cool, what's this girl's name?" Colby inquired. 
"Uhm, I think it's y/n?" Sam stopped to think, pulling out his phone. "Yeah, I texted her this morning letting her know we're going to catch a flight there, she's our ride." Sam chuckled, putting away his phone into his pocket. 
Colby let the name sit in his brain for a little, hoping to remember it later. It wasn't long before they were on their flight there. It was quite a while, editing and looking over their notes. 
When they landed, Sam kept searching for her face and Colby totally lost who they were supposed to look for. Sam's eyes soon lit up, recognizing her in the crowd. He waved at her, bringing her attention towards them. 
Colby finally noticed who they looked for, catching a glimpse of her. He felt his body heat up, flustered at her beauty. She was gorgeous, her hair running down her shoulders and her smile radiating through the crowds of people passing, he was surprised he didn't notice her earlier. She'd look like your typical medium, having a great style in all black, wearing an oversized band shirt, black sleeves underneath that hung over her jeans. 
"Hey guys!" Y/n greeted them, hugging Sam then moving over to Colby.
Colby felt his heart flutter and couldn't help but take her scent in, practically intoxicating. As she pulled away from her embrace, Colby couldn't help but feel disappointed. She offered them a smile and a hand with their luggage, but they declined the help. 
They moved their things into her car, ready for the trip over to their hotel. On the way there, she played music that practically matched Colby's taste. He felt as if he found his soulmate then and there. 
Sam kept asking her about herself and getting to know her. 
"So tell me, what type of medium are you?" Sam wondered. "If you don't mind me asking, of course." 
"It's okay, I like answering these, well, it's weird but I sorta have different types of abilities," Y/n began, steering the wheel. "I can let spirits communicate through me, so I'll channel them into my consciousness, letting them talk." She answered. 
"Other abilities? like what?" Colby asked, curious as he leaned forward in his seat.
"Well, I'm sure you have other mediums with my ability to see beyond what you guys can see," Y/n chuckled, amused at their curiosity. "I sort of have a heightened sense and I can see actual spirits walking around and hear whispers." 
"You know, I think you're the only medium we met who can just surrender themselves to let spirits talk through them." Sam chuckled. 
"Oh well I don't do it often, only with spirits I trust." Y/n added. 
As she finished her sentence, they had finally made their way to their hotel. It didn't take long before the three of them were inside the room, talking about random stuff. Colby couldn't help but watch her as she laughed and moved around the room. 
"What's so interesting about Nebraska?" Sam joked, starting a conversation. 
"If i'm being honest," Y/n sighed. "Nothing." She laughed. 
"Oh, that's great," Sam laughed back. "I don't want to get into the video already, but tell me, why is Nebraska so significant with orphanages?" He continued, pulling out his camera and beginning to record. 
"Well, do you guys know about the Orphan Train Movement?" She asked, leaning back on the bed she sat on. 
"No, never really heard of it." Colby replied, shaking his head. 
"Well, Nebraska is like the center of all the railways, so in the 1850's all the way until the 1920's, people would send orphans on the train from like the crowded East Coast cities into the midwest, mostly Nebraska," Y/n explained. "So, we used to have a lot of orphanages just like Haven Orphanage." She continued. 
"Really? that's really interesting." Sam commented, facing the camera towards her. 
"Yeah, again I don't really have much knowledge about it but that's what I know," Y/n corrected. "Hopefully the guide will explain it better." 
Y/n decided it's best if she lets them settle in, letting her also collect herself and prepare for their investigation. she said her goodbyes before leaving. She had to admit, she had a crush on Colby for a while. But she didn't want to feed her delusions and say he felt the same, telling herself he was probably being friendly. 
When she had left, Sam turned over to colby. 
"You so have a crush on her." Sam laughed. 
Colby turned red, covering his face, "Shut up." He muttered. 
"Hey, I just never seen you so quiet around a girl," Sam admitted. "Come on, you gonna make a move?" Sam enticed him.
Colby sighed for a second, looking at his best friend, "I-i don't know, she's only being nice, I don't want to embarrass myself and get rejected." 
"Really? Colby Brock getting rejected? Haven't seen that happen yet." Sam teased. 
Colby rolled his eyes, playfully. "Whatever, let’s just focus on this investigation for now." he averted the subject. 
Sam just gave him a look, as if it wasn't over just yet. He agreed to his friend's idea, pulling out his notes and taking more notes. 
Six o'clock came a lot earlier than they hoped, making their way to the orphanage. As they pulled into the building, they noticed y/n already waiting out front for them. Colby felt his heart beat a bit faster seeing her there. He examined her outfit and her demeanor, admiring her. 
They began making their way up towards the front doors, seeing the guide also there. It didn't take long for y/n to turn around and notice them, putting a smile on her face and her heart to melt a bit seeing colby. 
"What's up guys?" Y/n offered them a smile. "I was just talking to Morgan here about the building." She pointed towards the other woman. 
They greeted their guide, offering a warm greeting. They all introduced themselves, joking and laughing a bit. 
"Well, are you guys ready for the tour?" Morgan asked them. 
"Yeah, for sure lead the way." Sam nodded, following her. 
"Well this building was built in 1863, it was originally an orphanage named Haven Orphanage for Moved or Unwanted children," Morgan started, pointing towards the building. "It's said to be haunted, due to cruel conditions like overcrowding and shortage of supplies. The government didn't really want to pay for any orphanages, unfortunately causing it to be absolute hell for the children and staff." She continued, clasping her hands together. 
"Yeah, off the bat I already feel like some negative energy," Y/n motioned with her hands towards the building. "Like I feel a negative spirit lurking." 
"Yeah, so that you're feeling is Ruby," Morgan clarified. "She was one of the staff, she was very cruel to the children and it's rumored she sold her soul to the devil for the place to keep standing, but unfortunately she passed away from unknown causes." She continued. 
Everyone looked around, widened eyes painted on their faces. 
"Wow, okay so more demons." Sam chuckled.
"Well, it's not all bad energy," Morgan stopped him. "There's a lot of children spirits in here, they're rather playful and kind. But they do like to mess with you so don't get too scared from it." She added. 
"Wait, why am I kinda excited," y/n replied, covering her smile. "I never talked to children's spirits before." She admitted. 
"Well, it'll be a new experience for everyone then." Morgan chuckled, "Shall we start the tour then?" She suggested. 
The group agreed, making their way into the building. Immediately everyone looked around the place, noticing the different decor and admiring the ceilings. 
"So, as you can see, the building has a lot of character to it," Morgan pointed out. "But don't be fooled, there are a lot of dark corners of this building." 
Aas they went deeper into the hallway, they looked around seeing the admission office and different classrooms. 
"This was the classrooms, they would attend school here but the staff wasn't very kind," Morgan began. "A lot of the staff would use punishments that were unorthodox, like paddling which was spanking with a wooden paddle." She added. 
Colby looked over to Sam, "Maybe I should be punished." He whispered, causing y/n and Sam to laugh a bit. 
They soon wandered up the stairs, examining the stained glass on their way up. Y/n smiled as her eyes traveled around the beautiful structure, while Colby couldn’t help but watch her move and how beautiful she was. 
When they made their way up, they noticed the many bedrooms with bunk beds. As y/n began following the guide, she heard a loud metallic thump in one of the rooms. She jumped a bit, surprised by the sound. Unexpectedly, she jumped back into Colby's arms, causing her to become embarrassed. 
Colby's hands were wrapped around her for a moment before y/n, releasing her when she cleared her throat and looked down flustered. “Sorry, that just scared the shit out of me.” She muttered, placing a hand on her chest. 
“That's probably Billy,” Morgan mentioned, pointing towards one of the darkened rooms. “He likes to mess with tourists, he’s a prankster but he’s harmless.” She added. 
Y/n couldn't help but notice a small figure move out of her eyeline, causing her to swing her head towards the room. The guys followed her swift movements, examining the dark room. 
"Did you see something?" Colby asked her, looking back at her. 
Y/n tried focusing her eyes into the darkness, but nothing came up, "Could've sworn I saw something..." She whispered. 
As Sam pointed the camera towards the darkness, he zoomed into the room. "Well we definitely have to come back here for something," he commented. 
As they continued making their way further into the building, Colby couldn't keep his eyes off her. She was beautiful at every angle, he wanted to protect her from anything and everything. Y/n noticed his gaze, being a medium and all, and turned to him. Colby quickly averted his gaze off her, flustered yet again and awkwardly kept walking. 
Y/n blushes as well, trying to rationalize. She cleared her throat as she began making her way towards one of the bedrooms. 
"This was one of the girls' rooms," Morgan explained, pointing towards the different bedsheets of muted pinks and purples. "This doesn't have much activity besides a little girl who likes to sing from time to time, she's a rather sweet ghost." 
"Sam, this one should be your favorite," Colby teases, mentioning the Sallie house. 
Sam laughs, facing his friend, "I think I'm okay without another attachment." 
They all exchanged laughs as they averted their attention towards the sudden faint sounds of footsteps, followed by the rocking chair in the corner slowly creaking as it rocked back and forth. 
They went silent, looking at each other and back at the scene. But the chair just ceases its movements. 
"Okay, what the actual fuck." Colby whispered, covering his mouth in shock. 
Y/n felt a cold touch travel down her arm, as if someone swiped her arm. She looked around, trying to find the source. She felt a faint whisper in her ear, a name. 
"That was the little girl, her name is Beth if you would like to talk to her." Morgan suggested.
Y/n's jaw flew down, realizing what the name was. "You're kidding," she gasped. "I literally heard like a whisper or something with that name." She announced, crossing her arms as she felt the cold begin to engulf her. 
Sam and Colby turned to her, eyes widened in surprise. 
"Oh my god, maybe Beth wants to talk or something?" Sam considered, pointing the camera towards her direction. 
Y/n nodding, agreeing. She had experiences like this, but never this strong. She felt like her body was vibrating and buzzing with the constant movements and voices. 
"Are you okay?" Colby asked, furrowing his brows as he noticed her body shake. 
Y/n nodded slightly, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath. "Yeah just there's so much happening right now, I keep hearing different types of voices and seeing figures around the corner of my eye." She mentioned. 
Colby's eyes washed over with concern, having the need to protect her. "Did you want to take a break or anything?" He asked her, worry coated in his voice. 
Y/n smiled at his empathy, "I'll be okay, just my body is buzzing a bit, but thank you." She breathed out, flustered at his concern. 
Before they knew it, they had made their way to the darkest part of the building. The basement was where supposedly a lot of the children died from cruel punishments, creating a lot of angry spirits. 
"Okay, so before we make our way around," Morgan began, turning back to the group of people. "There is a lot of negative energy here, they will try to hurt you. People always leave here with scratches and even have been pushed off the stairs going to the basement." She warned. 
The group felt tense, nervous about what comes next. When they entered the dimly lit room, they could barely navigate through the dark basement as they stayed close to each other. 
Y/n heard something fall, causing her to jump forward and instinctively grab the person's hand. That person being Colby. She blushed as she realized who it was, clearing her throat and mumbling an apology. 
"It's okay," Colby assured, smiling but she couldn't see it. "You can hold my hand if you want, I'm sorta shitting bricks right now too." He chuckled, stretching out his hand to her. 
She felt her heart skip a beat, hesitantly reaching for his hand. As she grabbed onto his hand, she felt her body rush with electricity. Y/n was glad that the room was too dark to see her flustered face. 
"Alright guys," Morgan sighed, stopping under a lightbulb. "This was where most of the children actually died." She mentioned. 
Y/n felt a wave of sadness coarse through her body, her lip beginning to quiver. Colby looked over to her, seeing the glisten of her tears. 
"Hey, you okay?" He asked her, his brows furrowed with worry. 
"Y-Yeah, I just felt this wave of sadness," she sniffled in response. "like I feel them telling me something so horrible happened to them." She added. 
Colby felt sad to see her cry, wanting to wipe her tears away. Instead he gripped onto her hand firmly, reassuring her. 
Morgan nodded at her comment, "It was actually gruesome," she began. "The kids would be punished here, starved, even beaten. A lot of that resulted in death." 
Everyone in the group frowned, so much remorse for the poor children's lives that were lost. 
"But," Morgan cut in. "Like I mentioned before, there is an adult spirit who haunts here, Ruby. It's rumored she was murdered down here or the other theory was she was pushed out of one of the windows." 
They thought for a moment, feeling a cold chill rush through them causing them to shiver for a bit. 
"Did you guys feel that?" Sam asked, pointing the camera towards them, ignoring their grasp on each other. 
The two nodded, their eyes darting throughout the basement. 
"Man, I don't like the vibe I'm getting here." Y/n whispered, trying to inch closer to Colby. 
Colby agreed, lacing his fingers through hers as he pulled her closer to his body. He felt so protective of her, wanting her to be safe. 
"Yeah, we don't want to be down here for too long," Morgan began making her way back to the exit. "People get seriously hurt here." She added, sternly. 
Y/n's eyes widened, looking up at Colby. He looked back once he noticed her glance and smiled as he guided her towards the exit. 
Once they exited the creepy basement, y/n let go as she thought Colby wouldn't want Sam to see their hold, causing Colby to become disappointed. 
Morgan led the group towards the front of the building, Y/n walking alongside with her as Sam and Colby hung behind them. 
"Dude, I saw you guys down there," Sam smirked, grabbing Colby's attention. "You know, holding hands," He teased. 
Colby rolled his eyes as he flustered at his best friend's teasing, "So what?" He murmured. 
"Admit it, you like her, don't you?" Sam asked, wiggling his brows slightly. 
This only caused Colby to get more embarrassed, looking away from his best friend. 
Sam only chuckled, reaching the doors to the building as they parted ways with Morgan. They thanked her, offering her farewells, and advice. 
As soon as Morgan left, the group looked at each other. Y/n tried to avoid her gaze on Colby, not wanting to seem desperate for his attention. 
"Alright, I think we should use the spirit box," Sam began, rummaging through his bag. "And I have some toys that might interest the kids." Sam added as he pulled out various children's toys and the infamous Alice box. 
"Okay, sounds good." Colby agreed, nodding with the plan. 
Y/n bit her lip, trying to figure out something she heard in the building. She figured it was nothing, brushing it off slightly. They began making their way back towards the doors they just exited, seeing the dark hallways stretch down. 
Y/n froze for a moment, her eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. Soon, she started making her way towards the two who had already made it halfway down the hallway as they discussed plans. 
She tried to catch up to them, but stopped when she saw it. She stopped at the intersection of hallways, staring down the much larger hallway. 
Colby looked behind him, seeing y/n stuck in a trance like state. He made his way back to her, nudging her to see what's wrong. 
"Y-You guys don't see it don't you?" She whispered, her eyes glued on the other side of the barren hallway. 
Colby and Sam looked over to where she was staring, unable to locate the problem. 
"No, Y/n we only see the hallway." Colby shook his head, worry creeping into his skin. 
As Sam tried to begin his sentence, Y/n quickly cut him off. 
"Holy fuck, that thing just moved." Y/n whispered, her hands shaking a bit. 
"What? What did you see?" Sam asked, looking around the hallway. 
Y/n turned to the two, her eyes widened slightly. 
"Okay, as I was about to make my way towards you guys," y/n explained. "I stopped because I heard this whisper, almost telling me to come over here kinda. So I look down the hallway and I see this fucking thing, it was like tall and black and clothed with some weird black clothes, it kept staring at me even when you guys came over. Then it grinned and walked away." She elaborated, her voice beginning to shake as she covered her mouth a bit with her shaking hand. 
Sam and Colby look at each other for a moment, worried. 
"Yeah, okay so already a lot of shit is happening." Sam sighed, feeling a pressure build up in his chest. 
Colby nodded, licking his lips as he began to speak, "let's just get this investigation over with so we can leave," he suggested. "Are you okay to keep going?" He asked Y/n, his brows furrowed. 
Y/n nodded her head, exhaling a deep breath out. "Yeah, just that freaked me out but i'm sure it's nothing." She convinced herself. 
With that, the three made their way to one of the bedrooms, trying to contact one of the nicer spirits. 
"Okay guys, so we have the new Alice box," Sam pointed the camera to the machine. "It's like a spirit box, reading through channels and frequencies so the spirits talk through it." He explained. 
Y/n looked around the room a bit, examining the surroundings well. Colby couldn't help but stare at her face, watching as her eyes darted around. Y/n looked over to Colby's glance and Colby smiled a bit, causing her to blush yet again. She's lost track of how many times she caught him doing things that she keeps reading into. Clearly he's being friendly, but really how friendly?
"Okay let's ask some questions for the little girls that stay in this room." Sam began, clasping his hands after he turned on the small device.
"...hello?..." 
A female voice rang throughout the room, the echo bouncing off the walls. Y/n furrowed her brows, pulling out her notebook as she began to scribble words that came up in her mind. 
She stopped at the word, she looked down and thought of it for a moment. She noticed something, a pair of eyes on her notebook. But it wasn't a spirit, just colby snooping. She smiled a bit, turning her notebook over to Colby. 
He looked at her then lined the pieces of paper with the random ink on letters and drawings. As he read the words, suddenly the Alice box answered. 
"...chair..."
Colby's jaw hung open, looking over to Sam and the paper. Y/n's actions mimicking his. 
"Dude," y/n gasped, displaying her notebook to Sam and the camera. "I wrote that not even 2 minutes earlier, Colby saw it too." She explained. 
Sam’s mouth hung open a bit, shocked. "No fucking way." 
But before they could say anything else, the Alice box spoke again. 
"...girl..." 
"I mean, this is the girl's room." Y/n explained. The two guys nodded, still confused what the spirits are trying to say. 
"...man... hallway..." 
Y/n froze, goosebumps running down her body. "Oh my god, it's talking about that thing I saw." She whispered. 
"Do you know the thing that Y/n saw in that hallway?" Colby asked into the open air. 
The Alice box stayed silent for a moment, occasionally spewing random words that didn't make sense. But as they were about to turn it off, it spoke. 
"... can't say..." 
"Can't say? Why can't you say anything?" Y/n asked yet again, scribbling into her notebook. 
"...won't..." "...let us..." 
"He maybe has a hold on them," Sam suggested, rubbing his chin slightly. "It's possible it's a demon." He added. 
"...evil..." 
They looked at each other and didn't say anything for a moment, Y/n turning her notebook over to reveal the word written on the paper. evil. 
Then the rem pod near the door started going off, a chill running down Y/n's back as the room became cold.
"Okay, this is actually so freaky," Sam chuckled a bit, pointing the camera towards the door. "The rem pod went off after Y/n wrote evil AND the Alice box said evil." 
Y/n sat up, ears perking up a bit as she listened carefully to the air. "Okay, I don't know if it's just me, but the room went completely freezing, and I feel something negative in here." She blurted out. 
"Yeah, I feel the cold," Sam agreed. "Could it be that thing you saw earlier?" He inquired. 
Y/n shook her head, "No, that was like paralyzing fear," She noted. "This one.. it's just mad." She whispered out. 
Concern painted on Colby's expression, clearly reading her body language as uncomfortable. 
"Hey, maybe let's end it in this room," Colby proposed. "A lot more places to investigate." 
Sam nodded, reaching for the equipment as he turned it off. Y/n sat up, but quickly recoiled forward. Colby noticed it, confused. 
"You okay?" he asked, helping her stabilize herself. 
Y/n looked around as Colby held onto her arm. "Y-Yeah, just something pushed me," She answered. "like I was standing up, and I felt a shove on my upper back." 
The group quickly exited the room, making their way down to the basement. They were going to explore more of the place, but seeing how y/n kept being targeted clearly for her abilities they weren't comfortable making her go through it. 
The feeling of uneasiness returned, entering the frigid basement. The dim light still remained on, barely illuminating the space around them. 
"Alright guys, we're going to the basement," Sam mentioned into the camera, showing the dark room. "We're going to do the Estes method down here, Colby is going to do it today." he spun the camera towards Colby's direction, zooming into his face. 
"Wow, face of excitement right there." Y/n joked, causing Colby to break his monotone expression to light up with laughter. 
She felt her heart jump, hearing his laughter brightening her spirit up. She could listen to it all day if she could. Colby soon sat on the barren concrete floor, Y/n handing him the blindfold followed with the headphones. His hands brushing up against her, followed by a smirk on his face. 
She cleared her throat, backing away from him. 
"Alright Colby, can you hear us?" Sam asked, testing out the volume. Colby doesn't say anything, listening to the random static coming through the headphones. 
"Okay, whoever dwells in this basement, are you the supposed member of staff that passed away?" Sam questioned, awaiting Colby's answer. 
"Perhaps." Colby replied. 
"So it's a bit sassy." Y/n chuckled a bit followed by Sam's chuckles. 
"Well, is it true you did rituals to keep this place running?" Sam added. 
Colby stayed silent for a moment, trying to listen carefully to the voices ringing through. 
"Force." Colby blurted. "protect," he continued. 
They looked at each other, trying to decipher what was spoken. 
"What did you do to protect this building?" Y/n asked, furrowing her brows. 
"Colby." Colby said. "Crush." 
Sam looked over to y/n and smirked a bit, "I think it's speaking for you." 
Y/n smacked Sam playfully, a blush covering her face. 
"Kissing," Colby furrowed his brow under his mask. "Tree." 
Sam bursted into laughter, nearly dropping to the floor. Y/n covered her face with her hands, embarrassed. Colby, still oblivious to what's happening, is still spewing out words. Sam tapped him, alerting him to pull out of his trance. 
Colby removed his blindfold, followed by the headphones. He noticed Sam's laughter and Y/n's embarrassed face behind her hands. 
"What? What happened?" Colby asked, curious why Sam was practically rolling on the floor. 
Sam calmed down, wiping the tears out of his eyes. “It said kiss and then tree,” Sam coughed a bit. “It was teasing you.” He pointed towards Colby. 
Colby's face became warm, blushing until his face was red, “Yeah real funny, Sam.” Colby muttered with a sigh. 
Y/n cleared her throat, cheeks still flaming hot. "Well, let's just continue what we came here for." Y/n grumbled, her arms folded on her chest. 
Sam wiped his eyes, cooling down from his laughter. "Wow, that was too good."
Sam began making his way towards the stairs, leaving Y/n and Colby behind his trail.
"Sorry about him." Colby let out with a sigh, rubbing his neck. 
Y/n smiled up at him slightly, "I-Its okay, I know he's just teasing." She blushed. 
Colby simply nodded, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. It wasn't too long before they had explored the whole place, investigating where they could. But then the time to sleep in the actual building came, which y/n began overthinking about. She knew she agreed to sleep alone, but she was too scared after her encounter with that thing in the hallway. 
"Alright guys, it's time for us to split up and sleep in separate rooms," Sam urged. "We figured with the whole Y/n seeing the spirit in the hallway, we're going to sleep in rooms next to each other just to ensure safety." Sam explained. 
Y/n fiddled with her fingers slightly, anxiety beginning to heighten. She bit her lip as they began setting up camp in their rooms. She grabbed her sleeping bag, making their way towards one of the girl's rooms. her heart began beating against her chest as she sat on top of her sleeping bag, listening to every crack and noise around her. 
She rubbed her face, trying to distract herself from her thoughts. But then she heard a faint knocking on the window directly behind her. She just stared at the moonlight that illuminated through the glass in front of her. She quickly sat up, quickly walking towards the closed door. As she opened the door, Colby's chest pressed up against hers. She yelped as she got freighted by the unexpected visit. 
Y/n pressed her hand onto her chest, trying to calm herself down. "Holy shit Colby, you scared the fuck out of me!" She lightly slapped his chest. 
Colby chuckled a bit, trying to lighten up the mood, "Sorry, I couldn't sleep, plus I knew this was your first time staying alone in a haunted place so I wanted to keep you some company." He admitted. 
Y/n felt her heart softly flutter, touched by his gesture, "Yeah, I sorta kept hearing things, I was gonna go to you." She confessed. 
Colby smiled, glad she found comfort in his presence, "Mind if I sleep in the same room as you then?" He requested. 
"Not at all," Y/n quickly replied, walking back to her sleeping bag onto the floor. Colby followed, his pillow and sleeping bag in his hands. "I wonder if Sam is shitting himself alone." She chuckled as she hugged her knees close to her chest. 
Colby sat next to her as he laid out his temporary bed, chuckling at the comment, "He'll be fine," He waved off, "After he laughed at us,he can sleep by himself." 
Y/n laughed a bit, looking down towards the floor. Colby couldn't help but stare at her, admiring her features in the moonlight. She noticed his gaze, moving her attention back towards him. 
"W-What?" She asked him, confused. 
"Nothing," Colby shrugged. "You're just really beautiful." He whispered. 
She flustered as she looked away as her cheeks painted with a deep color, "Oh, stop it." She muttered, playing with her fingernails. 
Colby's fingers landed on her jaw, moving her to face back towards him. She looked up into his eyes, seeming to get pulled closer towards him. 
"Well, it's true," He added, but couldn't help but lean towards her lips as his eyes kept glancing to her eyes and back to her lips. "I couldn't stop staring at you all day," he revealed. 
She felt her body heat up, unknowingly pressing closer to him. "Well, maybe I knew," She replied, feeling his hand on top of hers. "Maybe I was staring too." 
With that, Colby's lips landed on her. She gladly accepted as her lips pieced together perfectly. Colby's hand laced with hers, like previously that night. He lightly held her face, his thumb rubbing her cheek.
But soon, Colby pulled away, leaving them panting as they rested each other's forehead on one another. Y/n couldn't help but smile and chuckle a bit, causing Colby to wonder. 
"What?" He wondered. 
"Nothing," She added, rubbing her thumb on his hand. "Just, there were at least three little girls in here giggling." She confessed. 
Colby let out a laugh, pulling away as he looked around the room, "Well, you guys should give us some space." He announced into the room. 
The next morning, the sun began to shine through their window. The rays of light hitting their eyes, causing their eyes to flutter open. Y/n was the first one to notice him, seeing his wide smile on his face. Sam pointed the camera at the two, giggling as he noticed her to wake up. 
Y/n looked over next to her, noticing the boy clung onto her as he laid onto her chest. She threw her pillow towards Sam, causing him to laugh loudly which woke up Colby. Colby rubbed his eyes, adjusting his vision to the bright room. 
"What the-." Colby grumbled, looking up towards y/n's tired face. 
"Dude, how long have you guys been cuddling?" Sam exclaimed, putting away the camera. 
"Shut up sam." Colby muttered, his head landing onto his pillow. y/n sat up, covering her face. 
"Sam, it's too early for this, can you please leave us alone." Y/n groaned.
"Fine, fine I'll let you love birds be." Sam teased, wiggling his brows a bit before he shut the door behind him as he left. 
Y/n looked over to Colby who was laying on his side. She smiled a bit, still exhausted. He returned the smile, still amazed by her beauty. 
"Does this mean you'd go out with me? or do you already know that I was gonna ask you out?" He finally asked. 
Y/n chuckled dryly, "Colby, I’m a medium, not psychic," She rolled her eyes playfully. "But yes, I will go out with you."
3K notes · View notes
fryday · 5 months ago
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Everything We Know About The Phagenda
I needed a place to organise all the info we've gotten from DNP about what the hell they're cooking, so this is the place. I might have missed things, so please always check the original post for the most up to date version of contents as I might change or add things over time. Any questions, just shoot me an ask or something. Thank you and happy conjecturing!
I tried to arrange the info roughly chronologically in each category.
It's probably more than one thing
Dan mentioned some things coming "somewhat after and a little bit soon after"
Phil said, "We've got a few things in our mouth at the moment"
Definition of "agenda" suggests multiple things
Money stuff
Phil made his cactus club subscription more affordable in preparation for what he and Dan are doing next
Phil took a question about what they're cooking in his latest Q&A video. He said that something may or may not "happen in the next month", but did not answer the section asking if we should be saving up for it.
Those who RSVP'ed will "be notified first as soon as the news drops" -> presumably related to a limited quantity of items up for grabs, which is why I've included it in this section, but that's just my guess
Concept / Nature of the Thing(s)
Someone on Twitter said, "So the phlonde has been in the works for months if that was the main reason he let his hair grow out" and Dan replied with, "what else is he plotting"
Dan and Phil included a blurred out image of a text message in their video, which Dan called "the draft for something that is top secret".
SuperSeizer (one of Dan and Phil's editors) is in on what's happening (the other person in this interaction is their other editor Kris, who may also be involved, depending on how you read this interaction)
In his birthday livestream, Dan talked about how they revived the gaming channel not knowing what the response would be, and were shocked by the enthusiasm from their audience. "Because it seems like there's a thing here. [...] And we need to be like, celebrate the things, acknowledge the things. So, I guess we can say in the most vague way that we can that Dan and Phil have been cooking."
Dan posted his story with the words, "the time is nigh - want to know what dan and phil have been secretly cooking? / reply to this story with: RSVP / and we will send you a dm as soon as the truth is revealed"
Another definition of "agenda" is "the underlying intentions or motives of a particular person or group".
5 of the images in the TV screens have been identified as of right now: Phil's Video Blog, Hello Internet, Saying Goodbye Forever, Giving The People What They Want, and Something We Want to Tell You
Laylo, the website DNP are using for this announcement, is a platform that creators can use to release merch, tickets, or content.
The initial wave of people who RSVP'ed got their confirmation emails from [email protected] with the reply email being [email protected]. It was then changed; now the emails come from [email protected] with the reply email being [email protected].
Dan and Phil would have been aware that they were using the tour email at first, as they would have had to manually enter it themselves. (Thanks @dnpbeats for the investigative work!)
They included a 3-second teaser clip at the end of the Sims fashion makeover episode.
461 notes · View notes
neiptune · 11 days ago
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this town is fake but you're the real thing
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cw: 11k wc, female reader, social media relationship, suna downloads an app that randomly matches anonymous users with each other because osamu thinks it'll help him open up more, strangers to lovers, romance, pining, so much texting, suna is as emotionally constipated as it gets
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Against all expectations, it’s Osamu who managed to get under his skin.
An innocent night out to celebrate the new Onigiri Miya branch in Shizuoka, a few beers shared on a bench by the port, what started as innocent conversation about each other’s dating life soon turning into a painfully precise evaluation of why he can’t seem to find someone worth keeping around.
“You don’t really open up to them”, his friend shrugged.
“I open up to them plenty. I’ve been with Yuki for three months”, Suna refuted such harsh remark with a scowl.
“Yeah”, Samu mused, “have you ever shared anything about your friends and family? What’s the most vulnerable thought or feeling you discussed?”.
Rintaro took a moment to reflect, begrudging silence weighing more each second spent quiet.
“She met Motoya”.
Osamu rolled his eyes, “Shit, you’re right— can’t believe ya didn’t propose. Meeting Komori’s the real deal”.
“You know, if I wanted to hang out with the twin who’d be a pain in my ass, I would’ve called your brother”.
With a snort and a handsome grin, Osamu lightly bumped his shoulder against Suna’s. “Ya love us”, then his gaze softened as he took a swig from the bottle, “I’m just sayin’. Maybe a relationship is not what you need right now”.
“Then what do I need?”, despite a fiery remonstrance, Rintaro found himself leaning onto Osamu’s judgement. He’d always been very good at reading people, much like his brother, but Samu’s approach was always balanced and, most importantly, sincere. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps there was something he’s missing about himself, something that shined bright for his best friend to catch instead.
“A connection, dumbass”, Osamu lightly pat his shoulder, “it doesn’t have to be romantic. It definitely doesn’t have to be sexual. You need to find someone you can talk to”.
“I talk—”
“Someone who isn’t us. Not me, not ‘Tsumu”, he ignored Rintaro’s indignant scoff, “not Shinsuke, not Aran. You need to get out of your comfort zone with someone new. A stranger!”.
“A stranger? You want me to stop someone on the street and casually ask them to listen to whatever trauma is tied to my fear of flying?”.
“Start small”, Osamu’s eyes glinted with the excitement that a good idea usually brings, “try that app Bokuto was trying so hard to get Sakusa to download. Matchpal, was it?”.
“Sounds like a great way to have a fifty year old creep flash me with a dick pic. No, thank you”.
“I’d think about it. Ya know, we’re not getting any younger. Like ‘Tsumu said, you—”
“I should hurry up before I grow old with only my emotional unavailability to keep me company, I remember”, Rintaro finished his beer with a grimace. Osamu chuckled, eventually dropped the topic, but the suggestion remained unpleasantly hanging over his head both like a succulent fruit and a risky presage.
So now he’s slumped in the living room of the spacious apartment the EJP provides, a quiet Friday evening spent cooking some stew for dinner and facetiming his family. The tv is on as a distraction and an easy way out should things get uncomfortable. Surely Dwight will keep him grounded.
Suna’s already downloaded the app but it takes one episode and a half to muster the courage to actually tap on it. 
The interface is pretty easy to navigate. It seems he’s supposed to create a minimalist profile first and then he’d be free to start a new, random chat. Users can opt out anytime or, if they wish to keep a specific person as their anonymous match, add them as a friend and pin the conversation within their personal directory. Nothing too complicated.
Suna’s patience wears thin easily and after a few attempts at picking unavailable usernames, he settles for crysnoopy. Finally, original enough at last.
Since not revealing one’s identity seems to be the point of the entire thing, he can’t upload a profile picture and instead has to select one random avatar from the default library. He picks a cartoon frog with big eyes and no mouth on a light green background.
There he is, an anonymous online presence on a stupid app. His profile only contains a nickname, he/him pronouns, age and a cute icon. No interests listed, no boundaries, not a single space where he could leave a polite note— please don’t send unsolicited dick pics. Not that he ever plans on requesting one.
Suna starts a few new chats, faceless identities either ending the conversation right away upon his dry and unoriginal hey or being as odd as one would imagine strangers in an anonymous community could be.
Lavenderhaze
-> Hi.
Lavenderhaze
-> How are you?
He sinks deeper into the nice couch pillows Atsumu forced him to get.
crysnoopy
-> hey. all good, wbu?
Lavenderhaze
-> Good, bored.
Lavenderhaze
-> Should we exchange nudes or something?
Rintaro sighs. Hesitation is laced into the delay of his thumb but eventually he taps the skip option, Osamu’s ominous words still ringing loud and clear in his head. It’s not what he downloaded the dumb app for, it’s not what he needs right now. Fuck, maybe he really should’ve called Atsumu instead.
A new chat opens after a short loading time and his nose wrinkles when he realizes that he’ll probably have to send the first message this time. The username staring back at him is original enough to make Suna take a few seconds to think of something equally entertaining to say. The whole thing is never going to work if he doesn’t take it seriously and actually puts some effort in it, right?
He looks up from his phone for a second. Then, a loud ping makes him jump.
Unfinishedusernam
-> When you shower, do you actively wash your legs or just let soapy water rinse down on them?
Rintaro almost huffs out a laugh. Original username and approach? A good enough start to ignite the hope of finally be talking to someone sane.
crysnoopy
-> I don’t shower.
A beat passes, then the small animation of a hand idly scribbling with a pencil indicates that you’re typing something back.
Unfinishedusernam
-> That’s hot.
-> Why the username?
Suna’s lips twitch, not a smile but almost. He wants to type an equally sarcastic reply, brush the question off and maybe ask something more interesting instead. But then he remembers what he’s doing and forces an honest reply out of his fingers.
crysnoopy
-> my little sister used to scream like an eagle when she cried, the one thing that always shut her up was a snoopy plush I won at the arcade.
Suna barely registers that his leg starts bouncing lightly as he watches the little hand appear on the screen once more.
Unfinishedusernam
-> I’m glad it’s something cute :)
-> Lowkey thought you were an incel
This time he really does snort out half a laugh.
crysnoopy
-> if I was I would’ve asked why your username is edging me.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Fair. So… you do shower, right?
crysnoopy
-> I promise I do.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Damn, my incel detector has truly failed me.
-> You seem suspiciously normal btw, I feel like we could have a conversation that doesn't involve dicks
Suna’s hand blindly reaches for the remote to lower the volume of the show he currently doesn’t seem to need as additional emotional support.
crysnoopy
-> likewise. wanna make it official?
Unfinishedusernam
-> Jeez, at least buy me dinner first
Rintaro’s beat to it, before he can even click on the option there’s already a colorful notification popping up on his screen, informing that he has a new friend request.
He accepts it.
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It took some convincing for Samu to agree but, eventually, the spot on the pull-out couch became his. Between Hyogo and Shizuoka, with imminent plans of further expanding in Tokyo, he’s always travelling to make sure the shops are keeping their top quality standard high. The Shizuoka branch is still too recent for him to retreat back to his hometown for good, so he’s there most of the time. Suna had to call him an idiot a million times before Osamu accepted his hospitality, never one to ask for anything, always first in line to help others instead. Suna thinks he still didn’t call him an idiot enough times.
They’re both gone most of the day anyway, between the restaurant and training. The season is about to start and the trip to Osaka feels more imminent than ever, Suna knows he has to be at the top of his game to perform exactly how he’s expected to. Which means, no distractions. He does a good job at avoiding those, dating apps left unopened and the way home now shorter than usual, to circumvent his favorite bakery. Those blueberry muffins will have to wait. Samu’s healthier alternative with gram oats and bananas is one hell of a substitute anyway.
Suna loves his friend, he really does. The house feels less empty when he’s around and there’s always a homemade meal tucked somewhere in the fridge. They share breakfast when they get up at the same time and night conversations at the kitchen table if Rintaro manages to stay awake late enough to wait for Osamu to be back.
But sometimes, being alone is easier. No explanations owed for the one distraction he seems unable to give up, no curious raise of the eyebrows he’d have to confront when the familiar ping from his phone prompts an immediate reaction the wrong twin would tease him endlessly for.
He’s always been a dry texter or so his friends, teammates and relatives have always told him. Suna didn’t ever think he was supposed to make an effort to become better at written communication, or communication in general. But now, there’s you. A faceless, perhaps not entirely sane someone who makes him check his notifications way too often, insides spasming when the message doesn’t come from one of his groupchats and the Matchpal icon flashes across the screen instead.
Suna likes talking to you, so much that he often finds himself being the one to text first. It’s okay if you’ll take hours to get back to him sometimes, he knows for certain that the message is eventually going to light up his screen and that’s enough to make him smile. Sometimes you text first, at either ungodly hours in the middle of the night or during the day, if you’re bored at work. He doesn’t know what your job is, you don’t know precisely what Suna does either because, again, anonymity. The only detail he’s familiar with is that you’re often around “wearing but rewarding humans”, as you’d once put it. The one thing you know about him is that he’s an athlete, something you had briefly teased him for.
When he’s not talking to you, when parts or even the entirety of days that used to belong to him and his routine alone are devoid of your messages, Suna finds himself thinking. Or rather, imagining. There’s a lot he doesn’t know and he refuses to overwhelm you with questions, therefore his mind desperately tries to fill in the gaps to no avail. Are you spending the evening reading a book, watching a tv show? Did you cook dinner or order takeout? How happy are you that it’s been raining for three days straight on a scale of ‘I can only function if it’s sunny and bright’ to ‘leave me in a storm and watch me flourish’ ?
Most times, Suna simply plugs the charging cable into is phone, switches off the bedside light and hopes to wake up to one of your texts. They seem to be making an increasingly dangerous difference between a good day and a bad one. He’s not entirely sure it’s ideal.
Unfinishedusernam
-> The humans are testing me today. Whatever you’re doing, I hope you’re having fun!
-> Ah, look what my mom baked yesterday. Told her I have a friend who’d love these :)
-> [IMG_65209]
Rintaro, elbows resting on his knees and towel haphazardly thrown around the neck, smiles at the screen. God, he hasn’t had a blueberry muffin in over a month, but what he’s really focusing on is that you’ve mentioned him. To your mom. There’s a low, static buzz in his ears now, punctuated by the thumps of his heart growing louder. It makes you feel more real, it also makes something simmer in his stomach.
crysnoopy
-> I’m at training.
-> They look really good. Send me one immediately. How was family dinner?
He’s enabled auto-capitalization for the first time in his life, for god’s sake. The Inarizaki groupchat was so disturbed Atsumu decided to apply the same additional authenticator method used by his online banking and forced Suna to reply to a secret question. One only the real Suna would know the answer to.
He successfully demonstrated the needed personal knowledge concerning the color of Aran’s lucky underwear in high school and thus confirmed his identity.
Unfinishedusernam
-> It was nice! I love spending time with them
-> How’s training?
Rintaro finds himself wanting to give his identity shape too. It’s the first time he’s seen your hand, holding that tupperware underneath the dim light of your mom’s kitchen. He wants to feel more real for you, too.
He snaps a picture of his hand holding a half-empty water bottle, careful to hide his shoes. Not that you’d be able to immediately tell he plays volleyball from those, but just in case. You do get to see part of his legs though, shorts and their very recognizable colors kept out of frame.
crysnoopy
-> [IMG_65209]
-> Almost done, very tired
He watches as the little hand scribbles, then stops. It resumes the writing, then stops once more. His leg is bouncing again, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He straight up jumps when, suddenly, someone loudly falls on the empty spot next to him and the bench creaks.
“We’re on a roll today, my blocks are almost as good as yours”, Washio grins, temples shining with sweat. He briefly glances down at the phone Suna almost drops when it vibrates against his palm.
“You okay?”.
“Yes”, Rintaro clears his throat, makes a show of shoving the phone right back into his bag, “you’re in shape today. Motoya too”.
“Ready for Osaka!”, Komori fist-bumps Tatsuki right before sitting next to him with an exaggerated groan, “hey, is your friend still in town? The Miya twin. We could go out tonight, get some drinks”.
“We literally leave in three days”, Suna’s fist lightly lands on his teammate’s head.
“Mocktails”, Motoya sticks his tongue out.
“I feel like I already see your faces enough. And I’m about to see them even more”.
“Rintaro don’t be a grumpy asshole, challenge once again failed”, Tatsuki rolls his eyes, “you’re always glued to that damn phone when you’re not playin’. Let’s go out, have fun, possibly get laid?”.
Suna sighs heavily. “Fine. I wanted to visit Samu’s new shop anyway, we can have dinner and take him with us afterwards”. He should get Osamu a gift, a nice plant or a maneki-neko. He’ll stop by a few shops on the way home, he decides.
“Now you’re talking!”, Washio smacks his shoulder with way too much energy, “let’s ask Nagito too, he’s gonna love some free onigiri!”.
“Hey, we’re payin’ for those”.
“Sure we are!”.
“I’m serious, you ass—”
“That’s enough gossiping, boys. Get back to work!”, by muscle memory, their legs react to coach’s boisterous voice and all three men jump up from their seats. Suna spends the rest of the late afternoon training thinking about the text message hidden in his gym bag.
It’s way past 6PM when training ends, the last half an hour was spent studying opponent videos and then simulating different match scenarios. Suna’s brain feels fried and on any other day he’d be so ready to get a massage, eat a well-balanced dinner and melt on his couch in front of a good tv show until his eyelids would grow heavy.
Instead, he takes the long way home, legs heavy as he explores different shops in search for the perfect gift. He settles for a very beautiful, handmade, porcelain maneki-neko, left paw raised instead of the right one because Suna knows Osamu will always care about having more customers who trust his restaurant rather than having more money.
The shop owner puts the gift in an elegant box and seals the bag with a delicate ribbon, he thanks the old lady with a deep bow and despite his limbs feeling heavy with fatigue, as he breathes in the cool air of the evening, Suna is content. He thinks of the message sitting pretty in his pocket as he heads home.
Unfinishedusernam
-> You have really nice hands
He didn’t open it, not yet. It’s reassuring to have the notification sitting there, untouched and polished against his lockscreen.
It shouldn’t matter that a stranger on an app is complimenting his hands, it really shouldn’t. Then why does it, somehow? Suna is happy you find his hands nice, which feels like a recipe for disaster. As he walks past his favorite bakery, he remembers you mentioning how you enjoy grabbing croissants for breakfast at times. When he told you that he was about to leave for a retreat with his team, after asking if their destination was one among Tokyo, Osaka and Yokohama, you proceeded to list all your favorite cafes, bakeries and restaurants for each of them. Just in case he had the time and wanted to check them out. As much as he tries to keep his distance, something as trivial as mentioning the correct city possibly resulting too risky, you always seem to go out of your way to reach closer. Taking the time to prepare three separate lists of suggestions while simultaneously respecting his boundaries is an effort he deems… unexpected. It feels weird in the best way. He almost wants to tell you it’s Osaka after all, give you something real, something new to hold on to. Maybe he’ll even tell you it’s volleyball.
“Coming home from another bad date?”, the unexpected quip startles Suna as he looks up from the sidewalk to find his not so friendly neighbor directing a saccharine smile at him, trash bags in hand. Not too long ago, he would’ve asked if she needed help with those.
“At least I still go on dates”, he purposefully eyes her attire, hoodie and sweatpants. Suna knows she’s just trying to annoy him, she can see the gym bag.
“With women who are blind, deaf, mute and desperate?”, she offers a sly smile and he rolls his eyes.
“That’s not a very flattering description of yourself, now”.
She huffs out a sarcastic laugh but Suna can see right through it: the irritation and the embarrassment.
“Always a pleasure running into you, Suna”.
“Likewise”, he smirks, “careful with those bags”.
Suna says goodbye with an unbothered wave of the hand despite her giving him the finger, positively happy that for a good while the chances of running into his neighbor will be reduced to zero. Osaka can’t come fast enough.
The thing is, he was surprised she lived so close when they first started chatting on a regular dating app. When Suna confirmed they were essentially in the same neighborhood, she was the one to propose a dinner right away.
Truthfully, it had been a bad day for him, for a number of reasons. Training was terrible, he was worried sick about his little sister’s sprained ankle, his own tendinitis was giving him hell and Atsumu had decided to call him to talk his ear off for an entire hour about the surprise party they were supposed to throw for Kita’s birthday. Yet, he didn’t feel like bailing on his date, so he forced himself out of the house with the worst mood.
Dinner was terrible. Awkward, tense, her growing increasingly impatient about his lack of responsiveness, him snapping at the tiniest, dumbest inputs. The entire night ended up being such a disaster she left halfway through her creamy salmon pasta, a few banknotes tucked underneath a glass of water, enough to pay half the bill. He remembers deflating in his seat, feeling terrible for five minutes, finishing his own dinner and then leaving as if nothing happened.
Suna thought about texting, maybe even apologizing, but he just never found it in himself to actually do it. It was just a bad date, bad dates happen. He’d never seen her before, or maybe simply didn’t pay enough attention to notice her presence, so there was no way he could’ve anticipated just how fucking often he’d run into her from that day onwards. She never failed to remind him of her resentment and, frankly, that ended up igniting his.
Of course Osamu’s leftovers are on his kitchen counter, neatly wrapped in tin foil. He remembers how hungry he’d feel after training, so when he knows Suna’s going to be busy until the late afternoon, he always makes sure to cook an extra portion.
Rintaro lets the gym bag fall onto the floor, right next to the couch he drops on with a groan. He’s already showered, he simply needs to change clothes and head out once more. When he checks the latest messages, his brows furrow in confusion.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Still at training?
Unfinishedusernam
-> Fuck, sorry, that was probably weird.  
Unfinishedusernam
-> I really didn’t mean to sound like a creep
Suna really, actually smiles at his screen. You’re insecure about complimenting him, which is sweet. He should’ve complimented you first.
crysnoopy
-> Just got home
-> You didn’t sound like a creep, I like your hands too :)
His heartbeat picks up in pace when the hand starts scribbling shortly after, indicating that you’re online and were probably waiting for his reply.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Ugh, see? Now you feel like you’re forced to compliment me
crysnoopy
-> No I don’t?
Unfinishedusernam
-> Liar. Here, if you’re sincere, compliment these.
-> [IMG_98279]
A laugh bubbles from his throat when he opens the picture of your feet in a pair of fuzzy fox slippers.
crysnoopy
-> They’re beautiful. I’d kill to have an identical pair
-> So you have nice hands and cool slippers, good to know.
Unfinishedusernam
-> You’re a flirt in your everyday life, aren’t you?
Once again, Suna hesitates. He is, clearly he is. In all likelihood, if he knew you in real life, he would be. You’re nice, intelligent, funny, someone he can easily see himself being interested in. But it’s not what he downloaded the app for, he shouldn’t wander in flirty territory, he really shouldn’t.
crysnoopy
-> Only if they own a pretty set of slippers
When has he ever been good at following judicious advice?
Unfinishedusernam
-> Knew it. Flirt.
-> Can I ask you something?
crysnoopy
-> Ask away
Unfinishedusernam
-> Why are you on this app?
He sighs. Flirty territory is easier than honesty territory. A quick glance at the clock on his kitchen wall instills a sense of urgency as he types a reply, as raw and sincere as it gets.
crysnoopy
-> I wanted to find out if I could open up to strangers more than I do with people I actually know
He really fucking hopes Osamu is proud. Let it be known that he’s trying.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Do you think you could open up to me?
Suna exhales from his nose. This is definitely not the type of conversation he wanted to have while on a rush.
crysnoopy
-> Maybe
-> I’d like that.
He waits for a few seconds, chat gone silent. Maybe you logged off, maybe you don’t know how to reply, either way Suna feels a weight lifting from his chest. It’s true, he thinks he might have a deeper conversation with you of all people. A faceless someone who sends him pictures of stray cats and nice sunsets, who makes him smile at silly jokes. He shortly wonders if you’d like to open up to him in the same way, if being vulnerable will ever be on the table. For now, he’s okay with simply letting you know.
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Osaka ends up being extra motivating.
The EJP Raijin players have been training hard, religiously respecting their schedules: there’s no time for slacking off, days punctuated by a disciplined sleep routine, physical and tactical training, cool-down exercises, refuelling afternoons and evenings spent cross-training. The synergy within the team is off the charts, they have won every single practice match played so far and the excitement is palpable as the game with the Black Jackals approaches.
Their training sessions are usually shorter. Atsumu insists it’s because they’re in better shape, Suna’s almost punched him in the face over dinner.
When he’s not too exhausted, against all odds, he enjoys spending some time with old friends and acquaintances. He knows it’s going to be a difficult game, Sakusa is a pain in the ass to block and Inunaki, their libero, is very talented. But he thinks he’s ready.
As they stroll through the city when their free days or breaks coincide, Suna is sometimes hit with pangs of a sentiment not entirely foreign. Nostalgia, regret? He can never tell for certain. He misses having his friends around, being in the same place at all times, travelling less. As he thinks of Osamu currently being the only occupant of his large, painfully empty apartment, while he shares a portion of takoyaki with an ever annoyingly loud Atsumu, when he listens to Bokuto enthusiastically detail his relationship with Keiji, he thinks he’s missing out on too many things and he’s past feeling unperturbed about it.
“Shoyo says he’s very happy in Brazil, asked us to visit soon. Ya should come”, Atsumu lightly bumps Suna’s shoulder with his as they walk by the river, in search of a good viewing spot. The colorful procession carrying portable shrines is quickly filling up the boats to be paraded up and down the Okawa river. While it’s still early for fireworks, oh and bunraku performances are about to begin on different stage boats, and the air is filled with fragrances coming from the endless rows of festival food stalls. What an unexpected fortune, to be in town for the Tenjin Matsuri.
“Not gonna crash on your friend’s couch”, Suna’s peremptory tone makes Atsumu roll his eyes.
“Why are you being so pissy today? What’s up, scared you’re gonna lose?”.
Rintaro searches for something in his friend’s annoyingly familiar, limpid gaze as Bokuto snickers next to him. He finds his own affection, honed by years of joint quarrels, reflected in it.
“Rin?”, Atsumu’s worried now, head slightly tilted to the side. Suna offers a tiny smile.
“Do you ever miss Hyogo?”.
“No”, the answer comes quick, “I miss my family, I miss my friends. Yer ugly face especially. Places are just places”, he shrugs and Suna feels his shoulders relax.
“We’re lucky, we still get to catch up”, Bokuto smiles, “it’s okay to feel sad sometimes though”.
“I’m not sad”, Suna grimaces, “t’was just a question. Shut up”.
“Aw, don’t be shy! Keiji always says owning how we really feel is important”, Bokuto offers him one of his dangos and he begrudgingly takes it.
“I feel like… you should shut up”, he gruffs out. Atsumu snickers at that and Bokuto pouts. Suna doesn’t pay attention to any of them, too preoccupied with taking a decent picture of the boats. He wonders if he’ll be able to make the fireworks look as pretty as they’re in real life, to show them to you.
He doesn’t care that you’ll know where he is, it isn’t but a small part of himself he wishes to unravel for you. It’s what you two have been doing, no? Occasionally sending each other messages that go beyond jokes and memes. You now know he has twins as friends, just how much he loves his little sister, his favorite dish. Suna knows you live close to your family and visit them as often as possible, that you always bring a can of tuna in your bag should you come across stray cats on the way to work. He knows you’re scared of the dark and can’t look at blood without feeling dizzy. You’re trusting, extremely indecisive, a fierce procrastinator, you spend too much time on tiktok and are scared to death you’re not going to be able to keep those who are important to you in your life, forever. Suna gets it, really.
He hasn’t been able to say much, you opened up to him as if it was nothing and he still can’t bring himself to share much more than comforting words and feeble details. Who cares if he likes yakisoba? He hates how detached he feels from everyone else. He feels lonely. He wishes he still lived in the same town as his friends. Sometimes he goes to sleep with the tv left on, to simulate someone else’s presence in a cold, empty apartment. He misses his family, like, all the time. The thought of getting on a plane paralizes him. He doesn’t think he’s good enough at volleyball, his team may lose and it would be his fault. He doesn’t think he’s good enough.
“Taking cute pics for your mystery girl?”, Atsumu grins widely. Suna keeps a composed facade, calmly snaps a few additional shots, but internally he’s screaming. It’s his fault for expecting a twin to keep a secret, really.
“How d’you know they’re not for my instagram?”.
“You haven’t updated your feed in a year”, Bokuto points at his phone screen, sunarin profile open to prove a point. Rintaro almost snatches it from his hand to throw it into the river below.
“She’s not my girl”, he grumbles instead, “just a random person I talk to. It was Osamu’s idea”.
“It was a good idea. I’ve been trying to get Kiyoomi on that app too, you’re both so closed off”.
On any other occasion, Suna would’ve denied that and retorted with an abrasive remark. Not this time, though.
“Yeah. Trying to improve there”, he huffs, to which Atsumu’s ready-to-take-the-piss expression softens.
“Right. So how is she? Can’t remember the last time you texted with a stranger for more than a week before they were either ghosted or became your girlfriend”.
“She’s okay. I don’t know much”.
“Everyone on Matchpal is anonymous”, Kotaro fills in Atsumu’s knowledge gaps.
“She has to be more than okay if you’ve been talking for over a month”, the older Miya insists, prodding mercilessly at Suna’s discretion.
“She’s funny”, he finally concedes, “and smart. Makes opening up to a stranger look too easy”.
“Smart? Okay, ya definitely wouldn’t be her type then”, part of the tightness in Suna’s chest dissipates as his fist collides with Atsumu’s arm.
“I think that’s the point, though. You don’t know each other and will never meet, so you can admit things you wouldn’t normally mention. Be vulnerable”, Bokuto finishes his dangos and crumples up the small disposable cardboard box they came with.
“Yes but at this point she doesn’t really feel like a stranger anymore”, Suna pauses after saying that out loud, surprised by his own words. When has he stopped considering you a faceless someone on a random app, exactly? He realizes he’s given you a voice in his head. A smile he imagines reacting to his lame jokes, when he deflects tentative personal questions. He’s given you a routine, shared most of his. You don’t feel like a stranger anymore but you’re not exactly a friend. What are you, then?
“Uh-oh”, it takes a moment to realize that the teasing sound comes from Bokuto. Crap.
“And we could meet”, Suna pushes, “Shizuoka is not that big”.
“She’s from Shizuoka? Christ”, Atsumu lets out a low whistle, “does she know you live in the same city?”.
“She never asked”, if the justification sounds odd, his friends are kind enough not to point it out. He doubts Osamu would be as lenient. Truth is, he didn’t ask either: after some time, you had just randomly disclosed the information, probably because you perceived him as a very discrete person. Which, for the record, he is.
“I’m going to ask you this question just once. Do ya like this girl?”.
“No”, obviously not, “I don’t even know her”.
“Oh? But you just said she doesn’t feel like a stranger?”, Bokuto’s eyebrows shoot up.
Suna sighs. His limbs feel heavy but it’s a different feeling than the one he gets after practice, more draining.
“He’ll figure it out”, the weight of Atsumu’s hand on his shoulder feels weirdly comforting.
I don’t know what she feels like, Suna wants to say. He settles for saying nothing, as the hold on his shoulder grows tighter for a split second.
Coach is going to have an earful ready for Motoya if he doesn’t show up on time at practice, in the morning. He’s still out celebrating-drinking with other teammates, their first Tenjin Matsuri an excuse good enough to be late. Suna doesn’t mind having the hotel room to himself for the evening, a welcome novelty: he just hopes he won’t have to drag his friend out of bed the following day.
His hair is still wet, the bed way too comfortable to consider getting dressed. You, a distraction that fills his stomach with fuzzy warmth, something that for a second makes him forget why his phone has been exploding with notifications.
It’s that stupid instagram post he decided to share after a year of semi hiatus, online presence proven only by the occasional story he’d upload. Suna feels particularly caught in his feelings today, so why not post the selfie Atsumu took by the river? His comment is pinned at the top of the section, with over 8k likes.
miyatsumu brothers ❤️
Bokuto left a heart too, Samu and Kita some of their usual simple but genuine comments. Love you guys. Miss you :). It’s easy for them, a skill he wants to master as well. It’s not enough for the people in his life to simply know that he loves them, Suna wants tell them more.
He takes a look at other comments, smiling faces with heart-eyes emojis and inappropriate compliments from strangers that make him laugh. He shortly wonders what your instagram looks like. Filled with pictures of you with your friends and family, no doubt. A feed that showcases your favorite food and places, creative outfits, witty captions and sometimes no captions at all. It’d fit you.
His phone pings again.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Osaka!!!!
-> Fuck I’m so jealous, I never got to see the festival :( did you have fun?
crysnoopy
-> I did. Some old friends are in town too, we’re playing against each other soon
Unfinishedusernam
-> Your friends are also athletes???
-> Now I feel bad, this is literally how I’m spending the evening
-> [IMG_62371]
Suna smiles upon opening the picture. You’re sitting on your couch and the hand not holding the phone is doing a V sign, a lidded tray balanced on your legs, tv channel set on a show he’s never been interested in. The lights are dim, the room doesn’t seem too big but it feels so cozy. The way a home should feel. He sees a coffee table and some lit candles by the tv unit.
crysnoopy
-> Looks like a perfect evening to me
Unfinishedusernam
-> I only walked 200 steps today.
crysnoopy
-> I’m like trying really hard to find something nice to say
-> Every morning is an opportunity to create a masterpiece called life?
-> Stop surviving, start thriving?
Unfinishedusernam
-> Fuck you for making me laugh, I almost dropped my dinner
He laughs as well, out loud, then double taps your message to like it so that you know he’s still acknowledging it, despite something more urgent suddenly prompting the quick movement of his fingers.
crysnoopy
-> Hey, remember when we talked about how you’re really scared of losing the people you love?
Suna can almost sense your surprise, it’s evident in the way the little scribbling hand appears and disappears repeatedly as you probably try to think of something appropriate to say.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Yeah?
crysnoopy
-> I feel that too
-> Most days I wake up thinking I’m a bad person
Another pause. This must be the most exposed he’s ever felt and Suna is grateful your replies are not as fast as they usually are because his hands are suddenly cold, palms clammy and disgusting.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Why do you think that?
crysnoopy
-> I don’t do enough to show how I feel and one day that could make them leave
-> Maybe stability isn’t for me and that scares me
-> I get bored easily, I don't want to commit. What if what’s regular, easy for everyone else will never be my thing?
Well, that’s a whole lot of fucking baggage he just dropped on you. His first instinct is to apologize, to ask you to just forget it, deflect with some joke about having had too much to drink and being in his feels. But he doesn’t do that. Why? What makes him want to trust you with all that? Perhaps it’s just curiosity, wanting to find out what a complete stranger would think of the thoughts that eat him alive at night. Maybe he’s hoping for some miraculous solution offered on a silver plate. Or he just wants to check if he’s able to even do the whole being vulnerable thing in the first place.
Your response comes after a couple minutes and Suna doesn’t remember the last time he felt so nervous.
Unfinishedusernam
-> How did you meet your current friends?
He furrows his brows.
crysnoopy
-> Most of them I met in school
Unfinishedusernam
-> So they made the conscious decision of being your friends every single day, all this time
-> Btw getting bored easily is okay. A bad person wouldn’t be asking those questions about himself :)
-> You can always work on what you want to improve
crysnoopy
-> You make it sound too easy
Unfinishedusernam
-> Sometimes it really is tho
-> You’re not too late, you know. Tell your friends that you love them, tell your family that you miss them
Unfinishedusernam
-> It doesn’t have to be easy right away
-> You get to make your own regular. Create your new normal
Suna exhales, reads your messages over and over again. It’s oddly comforting realizing that he is, in fact, not too late yet. Why does he always think that he is?
His phone pings again.
Unfinishedusernam
-> I think you’ll find a person you’ll want to commit to
-> That’s what I tell myself after all my failed dates anyway lol
-> Remember, be the change that you wish to see on tinder
Suna snorts, heart lighter in the hotel room he sits alone in. He could get drunk on the relief suddenly filling his chest, it feels like the touch of a cool hand over a feverish forehead.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Still there?
crysnoopy
-> I’m here
How could he not be?
crysnoopy
-> Thank you
Unfinishedusernam
-> How’s opening up to a stranger feel? :)
Good, if the stranger is you. Apparently.
crysnoopy
-> Mysteriously comforting
-> How are you failing those dates? Do I have to beat anyone up?
Unfinishedusernam
-> Nah
-> It just seems the guys I’m into are never into me
crysnoopy
-> That sucks for them
It really, truly, actually does. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt as comfortable sharing something so personal over text, it’s all so natural Suna is convinced he’d be able to do that in person as well. How would it feel to meet you? Would the magic wear out, is this so easy only because an anonymous profile on a silly app?
Sure, Suna doesn’t know your name or what you look like, but that doesn’t make you a stranger. He knows you enough for the words to almost spill out of his hands, words that press threateningly against the pads of his fingers.
He’d be into you. He’d date you. That’s what he wants to say: there’s no need to know how you look or the name printed on some documents, he knows enough. It’s a weird feeling that scares him and clouds his mind for a brief moment, as he waits for your reply.
Unfinishedusernam
-> That’s sweet of you to say!
-> Last time I went out with a guy I really liked it was a disaster
-> He also lived pretty close to me, thank god he moved now
crysnoopy
-> Well, joke’s on him. He’s missing out big time
Unfinishedusernam
-> Stop being cute, I’ll fall for you
Suna takes a sharp breath. Reading the words does something funny to his stomach, something Atsumu would tease him for.
Shit, Atsumu. The game is so close. When’s the last time volleyball disappeared from his brain like that, with the snap of invisible fingers? Can he afford being this distracted?
Unfinishedusernam
-> This dinner fucking slaps btw
-> They opened a new place in my city, add that to the list of spots you have to visit if you swing by shizuoka
-> It’s called onigiri miya
Suna chokes on his own spit so badly he thinks he’s gonna die as he abruptly sits up, coughing fit that brings tears to his eyes. He stares at his screen in disbelief, sudden reminder of how tangible and close you actually are burning like a slap in the face.
Samu picks up after a few rings, it’s late enough for him to be either still in the shop or getting out of the shower.
“Hey, what’s up? Saw your pic with that scrub—”
“Did a girl come to the shop today?”, the question is uttered with so much urgency the line goes silent for a few seconds.
“My day was great, thanks for asking! I’m okay, eating dinner on your couch right now”, the fake singsong tone makes him roll his eyes.
“I’m sorry, this is an emergency. She just told me she was at your shop today”.
“Really? Did she like it?”.
“Osamu”.
He chuckles lightly.
“Okay. First, please tell me why we care so much that she came to the shop today?”.
Suna loves his friend, he really does. Sometimes he wishes he was close enough to be punched in the face. “Stop being a dick”.
“Fine. A girl did come to the shop today”, Suna’s heart almost stops, “… along with a million others”, he deflates against the pillow once again, defeated. He knows it’s something he really shouldn’t do but he still sends the picture to Osamu, slightly cropped to leave out everything that’s not useful to the investigation. The two things his friend gets to see are your dinner and a V sign.
There’s a pause, one Rintaro swears is filled by the loud pounding of his restless heart.
“I know who she is”, Osamu speaks quietly, in a tone that leaves no room for sarcasm.
“What?”, Suna’s voice comes out thin, incredulous.
“I remember her. Came in as I was about to close the shop, bowed and begged for whatever leftovers I might’ve had. She looked like she had a horrible day, so I just…”.
“Put something together for her”, as you always do.
“Yeah! I usually don’t use those trays but I didn’t have any of the regular ones left”.
“Well, how is she?”, Suna cringes at the impatience vibrating in his voice, it makes him sound desperate. Osamu hums, it’s a voluntarily prolonged sound that makes him scoff.
“She’s really sweet. Apologized a million times, left a generous tip. I think you’d like her”.
“Yeah?”.
“Yeah, Rin”, he’s smiling, “I also think you should tell her”.
“Tell her what?”.
“That you want to meet her, dumbass”.
Suna runs a hand through his now dried hair, lightly ruffles it. This feels dangerously real now, something he could grasp if he so much as decided to hold out a hand. You’re so close. There’s something else simmering underneath the fear and Rintaro recognizes it easily. It’s an almost forgotten eagerness that he’s not entirely stranger to.
“Samu”.
“Hmm?”, he’s smiling again. The asshole.
“I think I like her”.
“No shit”, Osamu full on laughs now, jovial and relieved. Despite the annoyance, Suna feels the exact same way.
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Shizuoka seemed different upon his return, an endless pool of possibilities where something would inevitably remind Suna of you. He’d made peace with the fact that he had a crush on someone he’s never met and with that truth also came an endless list of associations his brain couldn’t help but make.
Texting you first, whenever he wanted, became natural. What’s more, it was almost as if you were encouraged by his newly loosened state, that one evening in Osaka opening the floodgates of something else, something different. You trusted him with your most intimate thoughts and so did he. There was no more wondering if you were bothering each other or texting at an unconvenient time. You’d once told him you felt self-conscious about that specifically.
Unfinishedusernam
-> Sometimes I feel like I’m too much
-> Would you tell me if I was too much?
crysnoopy
-> What do you mean?
Unfinishedusernam
-> You know, if I was pestering you
crysnoopy
-> You’re not too much
-> And even if you were, I could handle you :)
You were the happiest when he had told you they’d won the game in Osaka. Heck, you baked blueberry muffins (“to celebrate!”) and asked him to go get himself one so you could pretend he was there to eat yours. And Suna did: he got up from his bed, grabbed a jacket, put on some running shoes and made his way to his favorite bakery with a dopey smile on his face. He then suggested a toast and, what a coincidence, you happened to have a bottle of white wine left unopened for the longest time. The occasion seemed worthy.
And so you both ate and drank and celebrated until his cheeks felt hot and your texts started lacking proper grammar. Suna remembers how it felt, slumped on his couch, lights low and mind dizzy as his eyes blinked and blinked and then blinked again while the message sat on his screen, black against white. He just stared at it, not entirely able to discern reality from fictitious.
Unfinishedusernam
-> I wish you were here
-> I’d probly just kiss you
Suna remembers staring at his screen as a wild joy exploded in his heart and took over his entire chest, scorching and vibrant like festival fireworks. He stared at it for so long he still doesn’t quite recall if he wrote the reply or if the reply wrote itself, because the only other solid memory in relation to that moment is drifting off with an empty bottle of wine precariously balanced on his lap.
He woke up the next morning with a sour taste in his mouth, a throbbing headache and sore neck. His phone had fallen to the floor and when he picked it up, it was with a heavy heart that he noticed you hadn’t replied.
crysnoopy
-> I want nothing more
-> I’m from shizuoka too. let’s make it happen?
It wasn’t unusual for one of you to leave the other on read and it wasn’t like Suna to hyperfixate on not receiving a reply but this time, for some reason, it felt different.
As he got up with a groan and shuffled to his bathroom to take a shower, a strange feeling of dread strangled his body from the inside, his mind running a million miles a minute. Were you disgusted? Mad, that he had kept his location a secret? That would’ve been unfair, though, and you had always proved to respect his boundaries. Maybe it was all a joke, then. You thought of all that flirting as nothing short of a game, something stupid to pass the time with a stranger online. Something that wasn’t real. Worse, something you’d never want to be real, especially if given the chance to make that happen. Fuck.
Suna succeeded in keeping himself fairly busy for a few hours that day: he cleaned his whole apartment, did some meal prep, called his mom, called his sister, even called Atsumu. Your silence kept throbbing at the edges of each minute, it became so unbearable he ended up sending you a picture of an aspirin package with a funny caption, to test the waters.
You never replied. Not that day, not the following day, a week later your chat is still painfully empty. Or rather, filled with all the messages he’s sent before giving up.
crysnoopy
-> Killer headache town, population: me
crysnoopy
-> How are you feeling?
crysnoopy
-> Hey, everything ok?
crysnoopy
-> I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable.
-> I was really tipsy, I didn’t mean it
crysnoopy
-> Or at least I didn’t mean to sound so pushy.
-> I’d never pressure you into doing anything, let alone meet me
crysnoopy
-> I’ll give you space if you need it, can you just please tell me that you’re okay? It’s been three days
crysnoopy
-> Okay. I’ll be here if you ever come back.
He’s so mad at you. Weren’t you the first one coming forward with all that stuff about wanting to kiss him? Why would you disappear? He’s apologized, what else can he do? Was it all seriously worth so little to you?
Suna feels as if the days are longer now, training unbearable. Instead of keeping his mind occupied, all it does is remind him of how badly his blocks suck lately. He doesn’t pick up when Osamu calls, he’d read everything there’s to read in his seemingly inexpressive tone. He’s mad at himself, for not noticing how stupidly attached he’d become. Is it normal to miss you so badly? He doesn’t remember the last time he missed someone just as much. The world is cruel in relentlessly reminding him of you: an advert you’d find funny, that movie you’d recently discussed making a comeback in cinemas, sunsets painting the sky in orange and lilacs so similar to the ones you’d send him, a pair of fuzzy fox slippers on display in a shop window on the way to the gym.
The toxic part of his brain is ruthless in reminding him that this is why he refuses to open up to new people. That this is why he never lets himself be actually vulnerable and simply plays along: it’s because he’d be left with nothing but mockery, humiliation and loneliness.
But Rintaro doesn’t want to give that part of his brain any more solidity. What he wants, is to be proud of himself. Relieved, even. He wants to feel happy for having been brave enough to take a risk, to trust, to open up. He wants to relish in the joy that the brief encounter with you, anonymous and all, gave him. So what if you never come back or talk to him again? That’s on you. He’ll miss you for a good while, will probably always wonder what you’re up to from time to time, but he’ll be okay. You gave him much more than what you’re probably aware of and truth is, he’s grateful. He just hopes you’ll always be okay too, he hopes life will treat you well. He hopes you don’t regret trusting him with your most intimate thoughts, ever.
It’s not like he doesn’t reread some of your messages, to keep himself company. The most recent ones still have the not entirely pleasant effect of twisting his insides. He’ll have to delete that folder of screenshots eventually.
Unfinishedusernam
-> I’m so glad I stumbled over you on this stupid app btw
Unfinishedusernam
-> You’re sweet, snoopy :)
Unfinishedusernam
-> Today was shit
-> Sometimes I think about how it’d be to have you here, at the end of shitty days
Unfinishedusernam
-> Stop flirting with me, it’s working
Unfinishedusernam
-> I feel so slilly
-> can you evne like someone you nevee met?
Turns out, you really can. He just never fully got around to telling you properly.
And then, one day, Suna’s blocks don’t suck anymore. In fact, they’re just as good as they’ve always been. He speaks with Osamu on the phone, a little bummed that his friend doesn’t have another trip to Shizuoka planned anytime soon: the shop is doing great, his presence is no longer required as often.
“I’ll miss you”, Rintaro still remembers the stunned silence following his words, “come back soon, shop or not”.
The younger Miya twin paused his ministrations, hands sticky with rice, and offered a surprised chuckle, “I’ll be back. Ya can also take a train every now and then, ya know?”.
“Maybe I will. Hey, next time you plan a trip to Osaka, can I come too?”.
“Hell yeah. I wouldn’t have to endure that dickhead alone”.
He talks to Kita and Aran way more these days: when he thinks of one of his friends, he simply grabs the phone and reaches out with a text, a meme or a funny reel. It seems to make them happy.
When his mom tells him that Kaori has been relentlessly asking about visiting her older brother, Suna assures her that he isn’t too busy to accomodate her for a week or for however long she wants to stay. Even if he was, he’d make it work. His mom clicks her tongue, gives her approval for a weekend only, less her daughter falls behind her homework even more. He grins when he hears Kaori scream MAKE IT TWO WEEKENDS in the distance.
Suna hasn’t seen his little sister in months and despite their relationship being exhaustingly conflictual (they are way too similar to each other and she gets a kick out of pissing him off), he loves her deeply and she trusts him just as much. Sometimes being home without him can become a lot and it’s not like she ever directly admits it but he’s pretty sure Kaori misses him, the little gremlin.
He was already 14 when she was born and little Rintaro had faced the news of a new addition to the family (a female, no less!) with infinite crankiness. He huffed and puffed and complained about having to share a room and a bathroom throughout his mom’s entire pregnancy, then a pink little bundle of dark hair and eardrum demolishing shrieks held his pointer finger in her tiny fist for the first time and he swore to guard her with his life, forever.
Suna wakes up extra early to clean the bathroom and his room, which he’s going to give to his sister, and make it girl-appropriate. He always goes on a tiny shopping spree before she visits: kitchen cabinets are now filled with her favorite snacks, there’s a colorful set of strawberry handcream, lotion and lip balm on his nightstand, a sweatsuit set neatly folded on his bed, the expensive vanilla body scrub their mom wouldn’t get her sits pretty in the shower.
He texts her before heading out for practice, demands she keeps him updated about her position. Kaori send a thumbs up and the picture of the blurred view outside the train window.
Unfortunately, as it often happens, coach announces the team is required to stay longer than he had anticipated and Suna doesn’t dare explain that he’s actually in a terrible rush because Motoya has been playing like shit and, of course, that becomes everyone’s problem.
“Get it together, man”, he hisses, way less patient than usual. Komori pouts.
“I’m trying”.
“Try harder!”, Washio snickers from the other side of the court.
It’s not until an hour later that Suna can dash through the gym doors, already forty minutes late to the appointment his sister had agreed on in the morning. When he notified her about the extra training, she didn’t falter.
-> No worries, I’ll find the house.
The train station isn’t at all far from his apartment, a mere 15-minute walk, but Kaori hasn’t visited in a few months and she’s not exactly known for her acute sense of direction. She’d get lost in her own house if it wasn’t impossible to achieve that in a small two bedroom apartment.
“Why is your damn phone going to voicemail?”, Suna grumbles to himself in the middle of the street, torn between running to the station or straight home. It’s not dark yet but the sun has set and Kaori knows very well the one thing she’s never allowed to do is turn her phone off, especially if him or their mom are not aware of where she is.
Right as he decides to head to the train station first, he hears her voice. There’s someone taller with her, which makes the hairs behind his neck stand up right away.
“Kaori!”, he damn nearly trips over his own feet as he rushes towards his sister in the opposite direction, gym bag almost falling off his shoulder while she chats with god knows who without a care in the world.
“Rin”, she stops right in her tracks, “sorry, kinda got los—”
“Why the hell is your phone turned off?”, as if to underline his point, he impatiently taps on his phone screen a few times, another call interrupted by immediately going straight to voicemail. He only now realizes how breathless he sounds.
“Battery died, I forgot my charger at home”, Kaori juts her bottom lip out. She’s the spitting image of her brother. “I was lucky to meet your friend right outside the station”, she looks up and so does he, features morphing into a horrified expression. Out of all people.
“You… what?”, Suna doesn’t know what to say. Was his neighbor even capable of smiling like that?
“It was nothing! We had fun, didn’t we?”.
Kaori nods. “We fed some stray cats on the way here. It’s so weird that you had canned fish in your bag, though”.
“I always carry some! Didn’t you see how hungry Mochi was?”.
For the following seconds, Suna is incapable of uttering another word. It becomes weird enough for his neighbor to wave a hand in front of his face, brows furrowed.
“Suna?”.
“Yeah”, he replies on autopilot, “Yes. I mean, thank you. Kaori, let’s go”, he eyes his sister’s large, pink, glittery backpack. Hanging from his neighbor’s shoulder.
“Uh, actually”, his sister coughs.
“What now?”.
“I kinda need to use the bathroom”.
“You can use it at home? It’s a ten minute walk from here, let’s get going”.
“I kinda need to use it now”.
“Kaori”, he sighs, “it’s ten minutes”.
“I live right here”, the woman from his nightmares indicates the house behind her, “wanna make a pit stop?”.
“Absolutely not”, Suna clears his throat, “she can hold it”.
“She can’t”, Kaori shrinks in herself a little, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
“Fine, I guess we are making a pit stop”, he mutters and his sister exhales in relief, grabs his neighbor by the sleeve and urges her to open the door, quick quick quick please.
Suna watches his sister dash upstairs with a snort as he takes her backpack. It’s heavy as a rock. The hell did she put in there?
“You’re not gonna catch fire if you come in, you know”, his neighbor fixes him with a sarcastic glare as she takes off her shoes, letting her own bag fall to the floor.
“Sorry for the trouble”, he steps in at last, with a low grumble that allows a chuckle to surprise him.
“Don’t be too hard on her. She was panicking, I offered my phone but she didn’t remember your number. I asked where she was supposed to go and when she mentioned the neighborhood, I inquired about her brother’s name. Pretty lucky, huh?”, she’s not looking at him, busy taking off her jacket as well. Suna’s gaze softens.
“Yeah, really lucky. Thank you for taking care of her”.
“I also have a younger brother, I know what it feels like”, she smiles, looking at him at last, “one time we went to a festival without our parents, he thought it’d be funny to play hide and seek without telling me. I think I aged ten years that night”.
“She also used to run away so much as a kid. It’s in our blood, I was the exact same”.
“Doesn’t surprise me for some reason”.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”.
“I’m done, we can go now”, Kaori hops down the stairs, two steps at a time, then glares at her brother. Golden, foxy eyes narrowed. “You’re not being rude, are you?”.
He rolls his eyes but, before he can reply, someone beats him to it.
“He’s never rude to me. We’re friends, remember?”, Suna watches her wink with a smile so warm. Is that really the same person he runs into almost on a daily basis?
Astonished, he witnesses that little, usually quiet, reserved gremlin smile back at his neighbor. Then, remembering how important formalities are in their family, she thanks her with a deep bow. It’s only then that he notices them: fox slippers. Cute, pointed ears, bushy tales and everything.
They both jump when the steel water bottle hits the parquet flooring, Kaori dramatically clutching her chest. “Can you not be a weirdo for five seconds?”.
His neighbor (could it be…???) furrows her brows in genuine confusion. “I think volleyball finally started affecting his brain. Better take him home”.
“Yeah. Let’s go, loser”.
“Shut up, be thankful mom’s not here”, he fires back, fake annoyance to cover the fright that gnome’s actually caused. Suna’s heart is racing for an entirely different reason as he takes another furtive look at those slippers while pushing Kaori out the door, mind racing.
He is completely, absolutely unable to focus. Over dinner, he distractedly listens while his sister paints vivid pictures of boring classes, the art course their mom wants her to give a chance to, the latest fight she had with her best friend. He asks questions and fails to register the answers he gets, over and over again. It’s a relief when Kaori sprints to the bathroom, calling the shots for who gets to shower first. Suna is left rinsing the plates, with a brain that can’t think.
Would it be possible? You’re from Shizuoka. You have those exact slippers. You always feed stray cats. God, the fucking slippers. What are the chances?
He could call Osamu, ask a few questions. Instead, his sister’s voice keeps chipping away at what’s left of his sanity.
Your friend’s cool. I wish my teacher was that nice.
A teacher. Could kids be the wearing but rewarding humans you often mentioned?
He goes back to that disastrous dinner, desperately trying to recall how the conversation felt. What did they even text about prior to that evening? Was that woman as charming as you are? Fuck, he doesn’t remember a single word exchanged that evening. He just remembers being an asshole.
“I’ll be back in ten minutes”, from her comfortable spot on the couch, Kaori watches her brother march to the front door, then bend down to put on the same shoes he wore a few hours before, “lock the door, don’t burn the house down”.
“Where are you going?”, her brows are knit in confusion, never in worry.
“None of your business. Lock the door”.
“Sure, sure, bye”.
“Right now, Kaori”, something in his weirdly brisk tone makes the fourteen year old pause the show she’s watching, not without a dragged groan, and get up from underneath the blanket she had stolen from her brother’s room.
You’re so ready to go to bed early and declare the day officially concluded.
Work was tough, managing a new classroom of overexcited kids had proven to be particularly difficult. Between the increasing pressure from school administrators and the daunting task of creating engaging lesson plans for the new semester, you felt a heavy weariness threatening to swallow you whole.
As you brush your teeth, tired reflection staring back at you, he worms his way back into your thoughts once more. Saying that hearing his name and then seeing him again was unexpected would be an understatement: you were absolutely convinved (and thankful) he had moved. Where the hell did he disappear for over a month? Just to come back and show up like the annoying, irritating nuisance he is. One you can’t seem to whisk away.
Your date was one of the most disappointing nights of your life. Suna, the guy you had talked with for days, the same Suna who was so witty, intelligent and nice, was also just so blatantly uninterested. Bored. He didn’t even make the effort to ask about your day, eyes distant whenever you tried to initiate a conversation. And of course, because life hates you, you have to be reminded of that night every single day because you now see him every single day.
What’s more, you had failed the one person you’ve been able to feel interested in after that big, fat disappointment. Someone who just found himself trapped in the crossfire of your thoughts and stupid, stupid fears. Someone you were selfishly not ready to have so close. Someone wonderful who didn’t deserve your self-serving worries.
You’re already in your pjs when the doorbell rings multiple times, so insistent you almost trip down the stairs as you hurry, terrified that you’re gonna have to face an emergency with pandas printed on your pants.
“What the hell?!”, you instinctively step back as he leans forward, his entire weight resting against the doorframe.
“Sorry, I know it’s late”, Suna takes a deep breath but it’s not really needed. Prior warmup or not, he isn’t at all affected by the sprint through which he covered the distance between his house and yours. “I just had to… hey, can I come in? I’m probably gonna have a heart attack if I don’t sit down”.
You’re staring at him wide-eyed, completely startled.
“Yeah? Sure, come in! Is your sister okay? Did something happen?”, you’re quick to push the door closed as he heavily flops on your couch.
“No, no…”, Suna seems distracted for a moment, eyes scanning the room and zeroing on your tv, which is currently turned off. He stares at it for a while, then lets out a small laugh. “Actually, maybe it’s better if I stand up”.
“Suna, are you on drugs right now?”, the question is serious but his eyes, now fixed on you, don’t reveal any particular emotion besides genuine… amusement?
“I need to tell you something”.
The odd idea that he might be hiding a knife somewhere underneath that leather jacket crosses your mind for a split second.
“Sure…?”.
“When my sister was a baby, she’d cry a lot. I legit thought my ears would explode at some point”, he weighs the words carefully as he approaches you and, for some odd reason, you don’t take a step back. “She’d cry so much, all the time. And then, one day, I brought home a snoopy plush I won at the arcade. It became the one thing that would always shut her up”.
It feels like someone’s toppled a bucket of ice cold water over your head. Suna is standing so close while looking at you in a way you’ve never witnessed, a way so uncommon for him. You can’t focus on the desperation in his eyes and you’d never guess the hopefulness simmering behind a gaze that seems to be discovering you for the first time.
“It’s you”, barely a whisper, but it’s all the confirmation he needs. The relief in Suna’s exhale is intense as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in. Thank god he does, because your knees feel so wobbly.
It’s a weird sensation, being pressed against him, hanging onto his shoulders for support. He’s warm and smells so good, of bergamot and musk. Your brain can’t quite comprehend that he’s the person you’ve been talking to for the past months.
“I missed you. I’m sorry”, he confesses in the curve of your neck and the words dissolve underneath the thin fabric of your pjs, slowly sink into your skin and bones. “I’m so sorry”, he says again, carefully pulls back to look at you, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort. Mirth flashes across his features for a moment. “Hey, are you about to throw up?”.
“No, of course not!”, you take a tentative step back but he doesn’t trust your stability and keeps a gentle hold on your arms, “why are you apologizing? I disappeared. I should be the one… I should be…”, Suna’s gaze softens, one hand rising up to touch your face but then freezing mid-air, deciding against the risk of freaking you out even more.
“Please don’t cry”.
“What?”, you retort, “I’m not crying. Ew”, but when you touch your cheek, it’s shocking to find it wet. What the fuck.
“Oh, god. Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me”, a dry chuckle bubbles up from your throat, “listen, there’s no pressure on you. I’m sure this is a real disappointment so, like, we can pretend it never happened and just go on with our lives. I won’t—”
“Are you sure it’s you? The person I’m looking for is pretty clever”, he attempts a smile when you frown, familiar at last. “You think I’d leave my sister alone and race all the way here for a real disappointment?”.
“I think you just wanted to corroborate”.
Suna rolls his eyes, incredulous. “Well, I corroborated. I’m only gonna pretend it never happened if that’s what you want, because it sure as hell isn’t what I want. If you even care about that”.
You angrily wipe your tears, cheeks burning scorching hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t expect you to be so close. I freaked out. I’m freaking out right now because you’re even closer, apparently”.
“Are you disappointed?”.
You look at him, really look at him. His dishevelled hair, naturally narrowed eyes, the bridge of a perfect nose, full lips forced in a severe line. He’s searching for something in your gaze, with fierce determination. How can one person’s eyes be so penetrating? You feel naked, exposed. Vulnerable.
“No”, you reply, sincere, “no, I’m not”. If only you could feel the relief taking over his chest. “But… what now?”.
Suna feels as if he’s seeing you for the first time and, at the same time, it’s like he’s recovering something important, something precious. He’s already trusted you with some of the most important, hidden parts of himself. He hasn’t liked someone that way in such a long time and he’ll be damned if he lets this chance pass by. Again.
He’s not too late. Why does he always think he is?
You curiously watch as Suna takes his phone out and spends a few seconds tapping on it with a smile he can barely hide.
The familiar ping of a notification you haven't heard in weeks makes you stutter.
crysnoopy
-> Now we do this right.
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mochiwonz · 20 days ago
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━ you love me too?
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content | fem!reader x lee heeseung , fluff , cursing , skinship (kissing , hugging etc) heeseung is older than reader by 2 years , he babies her a litttleee , hes also kind-of a flirt and doesn't rly realize it ♡
word count | 1.1k
note | wrote this with orange haired hee in mindddd :3 i apologize for any grammar mistakes and this is my first time actually writing a fic, so pls don't hate me if this is complete ass !! (leave some notes or reblog if you enjoy :D)
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Another agonizing day at the coffee shop. Disrespectful people were definitely the absolute fucking worst. Just because you're serving them drinks doesn't mean they get to treat you like shit. God, you just wanted to be in his arms, having him caress your hair and sit with you while he listened to you ramble on and on about how terrible work is. Heeseung always made you feel validated, like your feelings were real feelings and that they actually mattered. You sigh as you text him for the sixth time today "hey hee, i'm home..where are you? txt me plz" At this point, you're getting worried. He's supposed to be home, he always answers your texts.
*Ping!* Oh shit, it could either be your boss or heeseung. "Please be hee please be hee!!" you say out loud, hoping it'll do something. You slowly pick up your phone, hands shaking, and-
"YES ITS HEE!!!!!! FINALLY oh my god"
His text read "hey sweets <3 sorry for not responding...was busy doing smth at the salon. c u soon!" What? Salon? When has he ever been to the salon?....oh. The last time he went was when he dyed his hair back to black.
Oh shit, you're in big. fucking. trouble. God knows how much you love and adore and want heeseung, who wouldn't? He's like an angel, perfect nose with big bambi eyes, tall, and has the most beautiful smile you've ever laid your eyes on. One problem though, he's your bestfriend. Bestfriend of 4 years, actually. Bestfriends don't like eachother like that. It's fine, you just have a little crush...it's not like you love love him, right? Plus, he probably doesn't even want you like that.
Right as you were about to make your way to the shared bathroom, you hear a sound. Footsteps. Footsteps that could only belong to lee heeseung. Fuck.
"Hey sweets" he says, and you can hear his grin. Surprised, not expecting his voice to be all up in your ear, you quickly turn around. Oh. My. God. You're faced with a grinning heeseung with......orange hair?!
"YOUR HAIR IS ORANGE??" you exclaim quite loudly, sounding a bit too excited. He chuckles a little, and holy fuck he looks absolutely delicious.
"Yeah sweets, whatcha ya think?" he asks, in an almost flirtatious tone of voice.
What do you think??? You think you're 1. about to fucking explode, 2. lunge at him because he's so fucking fine, and 3. cum in your pants. Or, to be honest, all of them at once!
"Oh yeah, right uhm it looks fine!" God, you made it so obvious.
"You sure? You seem like you're lying sweets." he says while looking deeply into your eyes with his own beautiful bambi eyes and playing with his new orange hair. You swear he's purposely doing this. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out, fuck. Get ahold of yourself y/n.
"Hee, of course i'm not lying. You look good, really good actually..." Shit, shit, shit. Why did you add that last part?? All you want to do right now is dig a hole into the ground and bury yourself.
You hadn't realized you'd been looking at the ground for a whole minute - sucked into your thoughts, until heeseung put his big hands on your chin and lifted your face to meet his.
"Yeah? I look really good?" he questions, voice laced with some sort of excitement. And as soon as your eyes meet his, he smiles. And all of a sudden, you realize, you don't have a crush on this man. You're whipped for him, you're in love with lee heeseung.
"Yeah..." you say under your breath. "Well thanks sweets, means alot coming from you, you know that right?" he tells you, with a sweet voice - almost cooing.
You don't respond, you can't respond. You're flustered as fuck. The man you realized that you're in love with, is less than 2ft away from you and almost...flirting...with you?
Almost a whole minute of silence goes by, nobody moves. Pained from the awkward silence, you decide to say something.
"Hey hee?.." you say, voice sounding small. "Mhm?" he hums, interested in what you're going to say next. "So okay, how do I say this. I think i'm in love with you. Actually, wait no, scratch that shit, i'm so fucking in love with you. I don't know if you even see me like that. You're so perfect inside and out, the man of my dreams actually. I don't even know what to do with myself when i'm around you. When you talk to me in a gentle voice or comfort me when i'm upset, all I want to do is kiss you. And I knoww this is cringey as fuck but I can't help it" you say, now out of breath from your rapping. (LMAOO<33)
Heeseung has an expression on his face that you can't seem to put your finger on. Shocked, unhappy, confused...you don't know. Before you could come up with any negative thoughts, he finally talks.
"Sweets...you mean that?" he asks, voice just as gentle as before, if anything - even more gentle. Can he stop staring at you like that? You're on the verge of exploding.
"Of course I mean it, dumbass." He giggles in response, and then brings his left hand onto your head as if he's patting your head and right hand to your cheek, softly caressing it with his thumb. "Fuck, I love you so much beautiful. And you're right, i'm a complete dumbass. I waited way too long to confess, i'm sorry sweets." he says, smiling at you and you swear you can see hearts in his eyes.
"Wait...you love me too?"
Instead of responding to you, he brings you closer to him. You can feel his hand slowly moving from the top of your head to your waist. To not make it awkward, you bring your arms around his neck, causing you to tippy toe a little. He has the softest smile on his face. You thought you were in love with him? God, he is so in awe of you and your beauty. You probably weren't even aware that your cheeks were all pink and adorable.
You watch his eyes move from your lips to your eyes and back to your lips. "Sweets, can I kiss you? Wanna know how you taste so bad."
And shit, how could you ever say no to him?
"Yes, please kiss me" you say in response, sounding desperate(as fuck).
As soon as he hears the "yes" slip out of your beautiful lips, he's quick to bring your faces closer together and close the gap. And fuck, his lips are perfect. It's like your lips were made for his and his were made for yours. Both of you were savoring this moment, your very first kiss with the man of your dreams, lee heeseung. Once you were out of breath, you finally pulled away - a string of saliva connecting your guys' lips.
Wasting no time, he picks you up as if you were as light as a feather, and spins you around like the princess you are. "I can finally call you my girl and my princess, and kiss you whenever I want!!" he exclaims, and you can tell hes smiling hard.
You laugh, feeling the happiest you've felt in forever. You look down to see him smiling at you, looking at you as if you were unreal. An angel. His angel ♡
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oh my god LMAO hope this isn't too bad :p my other works are here <33
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orangeocelotmartyn · 1 month ago
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Ren talks about Rats SMP on stream
Transcript under cut
Ren: Yeah, if you haven't been able to tell, by now, Martyn and I are gonna be Pi-Rats. Check how cool this art is, by the way. Right? Like, we're chilling on a--on a ship. I can't give away too much though, you know? The lore's gotta, like, uh, build itself up over the course of the series. But what I can tell you is that my favorite pi- food is cheese pie. And my specialty is treasure hunting and smuggling. Martyn's favorite food is pie. And his specialties are fishing and (through laughter) phishing. Good. Excellent. We may or may not be in the same ship, who knows. Who knows. Also just noticed how cool this is. Martyn has, like, uh-like a pin for a sword? How cool is that? Wait, why don't I have a sword?! I'm a pi-rat also, why don't I have a sword?! Dang it! Okay, wait I have to finish the se-the social media sentence. Uhm, (clears throat, writing as he speaks) "See you soon" (he adds "fellow" in text, but does not say it out loud, instead erasing the sentence.) "Any of the"--wait wait wait, I, ooh, we can continue the lore here. (typing as he talks out loud) "Any of these-any of these rats worthy of joining the crew? Winky P face. Rat emoji." Wait, we can do this, right, (reading through his sentence again, to add three rat emojis to where he once typed 'rat') "any of these rats worthy of joining the crew, winky face, p face, RD." Um…wait. Do we drop the super deep lore already? Potentially.
Ren: Okay, we're gonna drop some super deep lore live here on the uh, on the ole…the ole stream everybody. One second. Lemme find the ole, uh…(chuckles) the super deep lore. Uhm…who says we don't do, uh, exclusive previews on this stream, eh? There we go. (reading his tweet out loud) "The Space Rat has landed! On a Pirate ship…well…actually in a box…that is a ship…but it's a ship nonetheless! Any of these rats worthy of joining the crew? Winky P face. Captain Jaque Levy Lara't." (pauses for emphasis, and to let the post sink in) Boom. Send. Excellent. So, anyway, that's the news. We're in Rats SMP. Super excited, cannot wait. It's gonna be epic. It's gonna be epic epic epic, cannot wait. It's gonna be like, a very lore heavy, uh, experience, for me? Which is gonna be sweet. Not something I've really done before, uh. And of course, getting to lore around with Sausage, and Martyn, and El, and all the other-all the other rats, it's gonna be sweet. So keep your eyeballs open, guys. Coming soon, comin' soon.
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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago
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1 horny brave chatter that donated 100 bucks to loser cat reader's stream to make them say "nya" Lol
Kitkatsbiggestfan Donated 100 Dollars: Today's my birthday! Could I pretty please get a birthday nya from my favorite kitty :D?
"Ha! Good one!- Want me to do that you're gonna have to add a few more zeros."
Losers- These pathetic chumps think they can throw their cash and you'll automatically become their "precious little kitten". While that's true to some extent you still have your boundaries. You'll throw on the maid dress and call them master, but you draw the line at meowing, or any other of that cutesy cat shit. It felt dehumanizing as a grown adult with your own free will, not to mention they'd never let you live it down.
You ease back in your chair, thinking it's the end of that saga in your life when it happens. That same donation sends in another donation ten times the first with the cheeky tagline -
"Will that do? ;P"
More donations pour in voting in favor. Soon enough there's enough racked you could probably retire handsomely if you spent your money right, or at least pay for a nice vacation already feeling the headache this all will cause. There's definitely no way they'd let you back out of this now. Your pride was long gone the day you started streaming. Better to go down by the weight of wealth than regret.
Wedging your hands beneath your thighs, you hide your mouth in the collar of your shirt - leaning as far away from your mic as humanly possible. You steel yourself mentally and take a deep breath, but all that comes out is a meek-
"nya....."
Your ears twitch in response to every ping. You close your eyes, thinking of what useless crap you'll buy with your chat's money to distract yourself from their messages. A new chair. Fancy tuna. Restraining orders for all these sick fucks-
"Clip that!"
"Thanks for the new ringtone! ^^"
"Would you make that sound in bed? Asking for a friend-"
Why the fuck did you turn on text to speech?!
"If I see any videos of this online I will piss on your grave!"
"The only threat you're giving us is a good time..."
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bluesidez · 5 months ago
Text
Firefighter!Miguel Part 3
content warning: fluff, some mentions of Christianity because a lot of southern grandmothers are Christian (it shouldn't be anything that makes non-Christians uncomfy)
word count: 1.5k, not proofread
Prev | Next ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅𓌉◯𓇋 Masterlist
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Firefighter!Miguel who listens with a skeptical face as the trio of teenagers in front of him explain how their car ended up upside down in a lake.
“We saw a squirrel and we couldn’t just hit it, that’s inhumane!”
“So, you roll your car down a ramp instead?”
The trio stare at him with building panic.
“There’s not a single scratch or bruise on any of you.”
It takes about ten seconds of empty space before one of them crumbles to the ground in faux pain.
“I-I can still feel the sunroof on my head!”
“And you’re grabbing your stomach to show that."
The three of them stared at each other for a second, then one of them starts to cry, "We didn't mean it!"
"We're sorry!"
"I told them to just drive over a bump, they didn't listen!"
They started to crowd Miguel, each telling a different story. Miguel didn't believe a single one of them but their dedication to this bit was admirable.
"Ok. Let's get your parents on the phone," Miguel's voice demanded attention. "The totaled car is enough of a lesson, but I'm sure none of your names are on this vehicle."
The boy in the middle curses and runs his hand through his hair, "My dad's going to kill me."
"I would hope they'd be more happy that you're alive," Jess came up next to Miguel with a helmet under her arm. Her slicked-back hair has started to frizz up from the sheer amount of work it took to get a car full of water back on the ground. "If you all didn't think fast enough, there's no guarantee that we would have made it here in time to rescue you."
Firefighter!Miguel who tried his best to calm down the worried parents.
Yes, their children were ok. No, no one was hurt. Yes, with the right insurance totaled cars can be covered. No, he's not sure how the car ended up upside down. Yes, firefighters do these rescues regularly.
No, he was not giving out his number.
"What did I say about that face?" Jess sang as she sat in the passenger seat of the truck.
"Just because you say it, doesn't mean I want it to happen."
"Maybe you should get a ring. That poor mother looked so hurt when you rejected her."
"A ring doesn't stop wandering eyes or hands," Miguel gripped the steering wheel tighter.
Jess sighs, "True. That's not stopping you from staring at your phone like a sad seal while we're waiting on calls."
Miguel tried his best not to let his shoulders slump. He was a captain, not one of those reckless teenagers, "You think I did something wrong? It's been a few days."
"Maybe they think you're busy? Maybe they're nervous. Maybe they're busy. I'm sure you'll get a text soon."
Firefighter!Miguel who jolts from his sleepy daze at every notification from his phone. The 24-hour shifts can be grueling.
One glance at his phone showed some magazine emails and the reminder of a show he was excited to see.
Firefighter!Miguel who finally gets your text message on the way to his car.
You wanted to take him up on the offer of stopping by your house to check out the gas line.
His sleepy state gained a new jolt of energy and he was able to utilize it to tap along to the radio all the way home.
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"When you add this, he'll never even think about finding someone else."
"Is that so?" You laughed as you listened to your grandma explain her secrets of keeping a man. Even if you found it a little funny, borderline ridiculous, and extremely outdated, you knew she was dead serious. "And how do you get the man?"
Your grandma paused and smiled, "Are you sure you're ready to hear that?"
"If you're laying out all of your secrets, I might as well!"
Your conversation was interrupted by a knock and the ring of a doorbell.
"Well, looka here!"
You can hear the glee in your grandmother's voice as she opens the door.
"Look what the Lord brought me," she comes back to the kitchen with her arm wrapped around Miguel's arm. She's smiling brighter than ever. "And he had enough sense to bring back my good dish. Won't He do it?"
"Of course, I had to bring it back. How else could I thank you both and ask for some more at the same time?"
Miguel looked funny in your childhood home. A little out of place. Though when he opened his mouth it was like everything seemed right. He looked even funnier out of uniform. The joggers were doing something for you.
"You ready?"
You blinked a couple of times, coming back to Earth and steadying your wandering mind.
"Ready for...?"
"My poor child," your grandma grumbled to herself. "He came to go check on the house. Remember?"
"Oh! Yes, yes. Of course! Let's go."
As you made your way to the door, your grandma made sure to pull you back.
"And remember what I told you, ok? You just need a dash of it."
"Grandma there won't be any cooking until I get my gas line fixed."
"I don't mean the cooking, child, I mean the-"
You coughed loudly to cover her growing voice. The older she got the more her brain-to-mouth filter faded away.
"I got it, grandma."
You were sure she was going to say something about a bedroom technique, but Miguel was probably standing closer to you both than your grandma thought.
He didn't need to know whatever your grandma was trying to say.
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Firefighter!Miguel who was happy to have someone that truly piqued his interest after so long.
Some of his hookups were either growing too attached or getting too ballsy, stepping over several boundaries. The last girl he dated was in it for all of the wrong reasons, and the woman before that sunk him so low he never knew he could bounce back.
He told himself he wouldn't try to date any of the people he saved, but life was growing longer and he wasn't getting any younger. Plus, you did look really lovely in your patterned pajama pants and flour in places they shouldn't be.
Something about your struck a match against him.
Firefighter!Miguel who walked into your house with a calmer state than the last.
There was a blue tarp plastered over the hole in your home and some debris left over from the accident.
"Sorry for the mess," your voice was quiet enough that he had to hone in on it.
"I've seen worse."
You look back at him with shock then laugh when you see the silly grin on his face.
He walked deeper into the kitchen with his hands in his pockets, "It's not too terrible. I actually went ahead and called the gas company because something like this needs to be solved immediately."
Your eyebrows raise, "So is it already fixed then?"
"Took them about a day, but yeah. Now we just need to focus on getting the rest of this worked out."
"Thank you, truly," you smile up at him as you shift your weight. "Well, I guess I should do something else then, huh? I don't want to waste too much more of your time.
He was off work. "I don't mind. Glad to help in any way I can."
"Do you know how long the repairs might take?"
Miguel clicks his teeth repeatedly, "From about a week to a couple of months. From what I see, you should probably grab a few weeks of clothes."
"Roger that, Captain," you salute him as you turn to go to your room.
Miguel quelled the tiny spark that those words brought to him.
Firefighter!Miguel who watches you kick something out of the way when you enter your room.
He caught a flash of purple as you turned the lights on, but whatever it was under your bed in one swift motion.
Firefighter!Miguel who leans against the doorway as you bend deep to pull out more clothes.
Why you didn't grab things that were already on hangers, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't upset at the view at all.
Firefighter!Miguel who wanted to see you again, so he invited you to the annual charity car wash that his unit gave.
"We wash cars for a decent price, sell some goodies, and we take some pictures for the firefighter calendar."
He saw your eyes light up at those words, "I think I would love to see that."
"And I would love to have you there."
"Would you, now? Should I invite more people?"
"Yeah, for charity. I think I'm mostly going to be happy to see you."
Miguel picked a bin full of your clothes up and walked them through the door to his car, not really ready to process whatever look you might have on your face.
He may have nearly slammed his hand into the door with how fast he was moving, but he hopes that he can see you again soon.
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divider by: @gigittamic + @/benkeibear (Idk if you'll see this, but I hope you're doing alright!!!) ❤️‍🔥
a/n: It's so late and I definitely have work tomorrow but here I am because I have no self control.
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